Bleeding Out
by Stuff'nStuff
Summary: Ace sighed. Three weeks. He was going to be gone for three endlessly long weeks. Not to mention this is cutting VERY close to Marco's birthday and, subsequently, the first anniversary of their relationship. All because the damn marines had found some apparently super important logia type devil fruit. What was it again? The Yami Yami no Mi? (MarcoxAce, better than summary)
1. Chapter 1

(A/N: Hey all! Here's the very first chapter of **Bleeding Out**, the semi-sequel of **Rhapsody on a Windy Night**. The title comes from the Imagine Dragons song, and if you have time I highly recommend you listen to it and buy the album, Night Visions. Just a few things you should know before we get started. Firstly, the pairing of this story is MarcoxAce. Secondly, for those of you who didn't read Rhapsody on a Windy Night, it's not a problem. No prerequisite knowledge required. Thirdly, this story is rated M for very good reasons. There's going to be explicit sexual content, as well as violence, so be prepared for that. On extreme chapters I'll post a warning at the beginning. Ummm…what else…Uh…Oh! Yes. So I feel I should give you all a very overt warning that the updates on this story may be few and very far between. It will be completed eventually, but school's crazy, and I don't actually have the entire plot of this story mapped out yet. It's almost there, but I only write when I have something I think is really inspired, so if things take a while it's just because I'm trying to get something that's really what I want it to be, that's really worth reading. So yeah. Telling me to update quickly may slightly expedite the process of my writing, but screaming at me about how slow my updates are won't really help at all.

Okay. Well, that's that. Time to begin I guess…(I'm randomly nervous about this fic…I don't know how people are going to take it…no flames please, even if you do hate it!) I hope you like it.

**UPDATE: **I don't own the image used for the cover. If the original artist wants it removed, PM me or leave a review saying so and I'll take it down. :)

DISCLAIMER: Yeah. Don't own One Piece or Bleeding Out by Imagine Dragons. Well, technically I bought Bleeding Out on iTunes, but I don't own the RIGHTS to it.)

* * *

_Chapter One:_

_~I'll Bleed Out for You~_

Marco stared down at the document. He knew he should be focusing, should be working, but he couldn't keep his mind still long enough to get anything productive done. He sighed for probably the tenth time in the last fifteen minutes and pushed back from the desk, giving up. He couldn't focus. He was too distracted. A knot of tension had been curling in his stomach for the last few weeks, and had only grown tighter as time passed. Marco shut his eyes and leaned his head back.

_Quit worrying. Worrying doesn't change anything._ Yet another sigh escaped Marco's lungs. He leaned his head forward and rubbed at his eyes. He needed to stop this. _Worrying only makes you unproductive. It doesn't help you or him. There's nothing you can do. And Ace is perfectly capable of taking care of himself._ Marco heard the door open and close softly. He didn't bother turning to look. There was only one person who came into his room without knocking.

Warm hands settled softly on Marco's shoulders, smoothing over his skin and attempting to ease out some of the tension.

"What's got you so tense? You're stiff as a board." Marco sighed again and leaned his head back, closing his eyes. For a long moment he didn't answer and the question hung unobtrusively in the air. Marco chewed on his next statement. He took a deep breath, deciding blatant honesty would be simplest.

"I don't want you to leave tomorrow." He opened his eyes as he said it, looking up.

Ace was looking down at him in mild surprise. His hands had stopped moving, and for an instant he just stared at Marco. Slowly a tiny, resigned smile came to his face. "You know I have to."

"That doesn't mean I want you to." Ace gave a small chuckle at that, and his hands began moving again.

"Yeah. To be honest I don't really want to leave either. But this mission's important and nobody's arguing that I'm the best man for the job. Duty calls. I would have thought you'd be the first one kicking me out the door, seeing what's at stake." Marco sighed again. He knew Ace was right. Well, mostly right. He would have been the first one kicking Ace out the door…eleven months ago. But things had changed. "It's not going to be a huge deal. Three weeks at most." Ace smiled down at him, brushed some hair off his forehead, and kissed him there softly. "I'll be back before you know it."

"What time are you leaving tomorrow?" Ace gave a despondent sigh.

"Too fucking early. Nobody should be awake at that time." Marco gave an amused half-laugh.

"So by your standards that'd be about nine o'clock, right?"

"_No_!" Ace gave Marco an annoyed look when he started to laugh outright. He punched Marco in the shoulder. "Fuck you, Marco. You're a jerk." Marco's laughter subsided and he looked seriously up at Ace again.

"No, seriously. What time are you leaving? I want to be sure I'm awake to say goodbye." Ace allowed the annoyed look to fall of his face, giving another remorseful sigh.

"We're setting out at, like, 3:30. It sucks."

"We?" Ace gave Marco a surprised look.

"Yeah. Teach, Thatch, and I. Didn't Oyaji tell you?"

"No." Marco's face was dead serious.

"Thatch is coming to help me with the stealth ops. We _are_ trying to steal devil fruits from a high level marine base after all. We can't just kick down the front door. Thatch and I are the best at this kind of thing, and I prefer to have back-up if I'm stealing shit from a base usually guarded by an _admiral._" The intensity hadn't faded from Marco's eyes. Ace looked down in confusion. "What's the matter?"

"Why are you bringing Teach?" Marco's look was serious and hard. Ace didn't understand why Marco was upset, but he responded anyway, eyebrows gently furrowed in confusion.

"He hasn't had a field assignment in a long time. He needs more experience with this kind of stuff, and I figure even if he doesn't actually infiltrate the base with us it'll be good for him to see the planning process. He almost got some people from twelfth killed a few months ago by being an idiot. He needs to learn how to strategize. This seems as good an opportunity as any." Marco had pulled his eyes from Ace's, staring instead at the wall. "What's the matter? Do you not like Teach?" Marco took a deep breath, trying to force himself to calm down.

"It's not that exactly…"

"Then what is it?" There was real concern in Ace's voice. Marco's eyes narrowed and a surprisingly fierce surge of dislike flowed through him.

"I don't like the way he looks at you." Ace blinked down at Marco in surprise. A moment of Ace's stunned silence passed before Ace responded.

"Marco…" Marco wouldn't look up at him, still staring off at the wall.

"He watches you. All the time. All. The. Fucking. Time. I hate it. I can tell what he wants from you. And now you're going off on a three-week mission with him?" Marco's voice lost its anger. "I'm just…worried."

Ace stared down at Marco in shock for a moment, then slowly lowered himself. He wrapped his arms around Marco's torso, his chin hovering just above Marco's left shoulder. Marco exhaled and leaned his head against Ace's. Ace pressed a kiss onto the side of Marco's face, then spoke.

"Marco, it doesn't matter what Teach may or may not want from me. I'm his division commander, he'd never actually try anything, and if he did I'd refuse him."

"But what if he doesn't ask for permission?"

"Then I'll kick his ass." Marco didn't respond and Ace could tell he hadn't resolved the issue in Marco's mind. He sighed and stood, walking around the chair so he was in front of Marco.

He moved forward, placing one knee on either side of Marco's hips, half-sitting on Marco's thighs, near his knees. Ace wrapped his arms loosely around Marco's neck and Marco automatically raised his hands, placing them gently on Ace's waist. Ace looked seriously into Marco's face and his voice was firm.

"I'm not going to cheat on you, Marco. I'm not." His expression softened and his voice went quiet. "Don't you understand yet? I _love_ you. You make me happier than I than I knew I could be, and you love me back, which is more than I'd ever dreamed I could have. You really think I'd throw all of that away? For Teach?" Ace reached down and grabbed one of Marco's hands, raising it and pressing it flat against his chest, his own palm over it.

"…Do you feel it?" Marco was staring at Ace, feeling the quiet drumming of Ace's heart under his hand. Ace looked at him softly. "It's yours, you know. It has been for a long time. It beats for you and because of you. You're the reason it keeps going and without you it'd stop." He released Marco's hand, wrapping both arms around Marco's neck and pulling him into an embrace. "I love you, Marco. I love you. Nothing's going to change that, come hell or high water."

Ace let go slowly and pulled back. As he did, Marco raised a hand and gently cupped the side of Ace's face. Ace leaned into Marco's touch and Marco stroked his cheekbone with his thumb. He smiled softly up at Ace.

"How is it possible for one person to be as amazing as you are?" Ace smiled jokingly.

"Well, you know. It's a tough job, but someone's gotta do it." The laughter faded from his eyes, the smile following shortly after. His face turned thoughtful.

"…Your birthday is coming up pretty soon, huh?"

"Hmm? Yeah, I guess it is. I have to admit I'm intrigued to see what you come up with as far as celebration goes. Last year's will be pretty hard to top." Memories of a ballroom, a red dress, looping in the perfection of a waltz…and then, of course, their first kiss the next day. Ace was staring down at Marco's chest, lightly tracing his tattoo. He looked up slowly, staring into Marco's eyes, small smile finding its way onto his face. There was fire in Ace's eyes. His hand began to wander from the tattoo.

"Oh, you know. I've got a few…ideas." His hand trailed downward, fingers stroking over Marco's abdominal muscles, the tips of his nails tracing the skin along the waistline of Marco's pants. Marco's skin tingled under Ace's touch, and a smile that matched Ace's tugged at his mouth. He dropped one hand from Ace's waist, placing it high on his outer thigh. He heard Ace's breath catch slightly.

"You know, with you leaving tomorrow and all…" His hand moved slowly up Ace's thigh, and he wrapped his other arm around Ace's lower back, pulling him more fully into his lap, hips flush against each other. "…There's no 100 percent guarantee that you're going to be back in time for my birthday." His voice dropped to a whisper, hot breath puffing against Ace's skin and leaving goose bumps.

"I think we should celebrate early."

He leaned forward, bringing his hand up from Ace's thigh to tangle in his hair, pulling Ace down into a kiss. He pressed his tongue into Ace's mouth, and the two of them twirled and fought for a long moment.

They drew back, breaking for air, and Ace was panting lightly, lips gently parted. A light blush painted his cheeks and his eyes were slightly unfocused, clouded with pleasure. Marco felt arousal blooming and growing inside him, burning like a fire, setting his nerves alight. He needed more.

With a gentle but firm tug, Marco pulled Ace's head back, leaning forward again and pressing hot, wet kisses against Ace's throat, flicking his tongue over Ace's jugular. Ace drew in a shaky breath, more of a shuddering gasp than anything, and Marco felt Ace swallow thickly.

"You know" Marco's face was right beside Ace's collarbone. He bit down, and the tiny sound that passed Ace's mouth was more than enough of a reward. "I'm really enjoying this kind of celebration." He kissed the place he had bit Ace before and allowed himself to venture lower, exploring down Ace's chest, sucking and biting. "I think we should make it a habit. A little more frequently than annually would be a good idea, though." He looked up to Ace's face.

Ace's head was tipped back, throat bared. His lips were parted, halting pants passing between them. His eyes were closed and his hair fell back from his face, aroused blush painted on his cheeks. Marco felt his self-control slipping away by the instant and had to resist the temptation to throw Ace on his bed, tear his clothes off and fuck him senseless. An appreciative, possessive growl came out of Marco's throat at Ace's face. Seeing Ace like this was by far the most arousing experience Marco had had in years.

Marco, unable to keep himself still, resumed his oral exploration of Ace's chest. As his control began to further crumble, he grew more passionate, more frenzied. His mouth landed and he sucked hard on Ace's nipple, relishing in the sound Ace made in response. Marco's hands wandered up and down Ace's legs, back, and chest. Ace's breathing only grew more and more uneven, more frequently accompanied by tiny sounds that only pushed Marco closer towards the edge.

Marco's hand trailed down Ace's back, feeling Ace press into his touch. As Marco's one hand traveled lower, he traced the other partway up Ace's inner thigh and gave an appreciative smile when he felt the muscles in Ace's back tense as if he wanted to buck his hips forward, into Marco's touch.

"Mnh…M-Marco…!" Ace's voice, saying his name, no less, almost threw him into a frenzy. He bit down on Ace's collarbone, simultaneously wrapping an arm around Ace's waist, pulling him even closer. His other hand dropped from Ace's back, grabbing his ass. Ace's back arched in response, a moan sliding out his throat.

Whatever force had been keeping Ace still before evaporated and his head snapped down, breath coming in gasps. His eyes were open now, full of desperation, of need. He grabbed at Marco's shirt, pulling at it thoughtlessly, trying to push it from his shoulders. His movements were fast, desperate. Something needed to give, there was too much delicious pressure, he was going to explode…

Managing to finally get the shirt off Marco he promptly threw the offending material away, not bothering to watch it sail across the room. Ace set his sights on Marco's blue sash and golden belt next, but was cut short, throwing his head back as a throaty moan passed his lips.

One of Marco's hands was wrestling with the buckle on Ace's belt, the other massaging Ace's ass in his palm. His grip was almost bruising, but Ace loved it, _needed_ it. He dimly realized his fingers were digging into the skin of Marco's chest, his toes curled. His breath came in ragged gasping pants, Marco's not much better.

Ace's back arched again as Marco squeezed his ass. Ace moved then, wrapping his arms tightly about Marco's neck, pulling their bodies flush against each other. He kissed Marco's ear and throat sloppily, lustfully, biting and sucking fiercely. His offensive move had Marco pausing for a moment, frozen in the pleasure for that instant.

When the moment ended his need was even greater than before and he pulled impatiently at Ace's shorts and belt, wrestling with the buckle. He finally got the damn thing unclasped and reached for the button and zipper. Ace, at this point, was gasping for breath, clutching Marco's neck-

Knock, knock.

Both froze where they were, Marco's hands on the button of Ace's shorts, Ace pulling his head back to try to draw Marco into a kiss.

"Marco I know you're in there. Open up." Thatch's voice came from the other side of the wood. Ace sighed.

"Fuck." He mumbled. He moved to climb off Marco, but Marco was unwilling to let go. Ace looked at him regretfully. "You know if I don't open the door he's just going to come in." Marco's face pulled into a scowl and he looked away.

"Fuck." His tone matched Ace's from before, and Ace almost laughed. Ace extracted himself from the chair and walked to the door. He grasped the handle and pulled it open, putting a bright, overly happy smile on his face.

"You know, we need you to get you a motherfucking _crown_." Thatch, surprised at seeing Ace and confused by his words, had his hand raised to knock again.

"What? Why?"

"Because you, good sir, just managed to win worst timing of the year award _and_ cock-blocker of the century." Thatch glanced over Ace's shoulder into the room beyond, taking in Marco's shirt, hanging off a rather distressed looking ceiling fan, and Marco himself, still seated in his desk chair, glaring murderously.

"Oh. Oops." Thatch grinned back at Ace. "I will take that crown, though." They both laughed and the conversation took off from there. Marco didn't really listen to what they were saying, opting instead to watch Ace and think.

_Damn Thatch and damn his bad timing._ Marco _was_ pretty miffed at Thatch. Of all the times for him to possibly come to the door he had to choose that minute? Marco didn't think there was much in the world that was important enough to ruin that moment, and based on the lighthearted nature of Ace and Thatch's conversation, he didn't think whatever Thatch was here for was on that very short list.

To be honest, Marco was surprised at how far he'd gotten with Ace. Ace usually pushed him away, gently but firmly, whenever they reached what Marco would deem "second base". Marco didn't blame Ace for that, and respected Ace's boundaries, when he set them. Today, though, had been different. Ace had seemed ready, like he actually wanted to go all the way. If they hadn't been interrupted, Marco was almost certain they would have had all out sex.

It would have been their first time.

When they had officially entered into a relationship about eleven months ago, Marco had been almost certain that Ace would be the one pulling their relationship further, moving them into new territory. At first Marco himself had been a little nervous. Before Ace he'd never had an intimate relationship with a man, and the concept had been foreign and a little frightening to him. He adjusted pretty quickly, though, and Ace had been gracious, giving him space when he needed it.

After a time, Marco became the one leading their relationship along, bringing the two of them to try new things and become more intimate with one another. Marco had been surprised by this, had expected that he would be much less willing to experiment with Ace than Ace would be to experiment with him. He'd been proven wrong, though, when Ace had started shying away from more extreme forms of physical affection. The reason became clear when Izou approached him about it about four months into his and Ace's relationship.

Ace was a virgin.

Izou had made Marco promise he wouldn't tell Ace that Izou had told him. It certainly explained a few things, though. Ace was nervous. It was perfectly understandable and Marco didn't blame him. Izou, along with making Marco promise not to tell Ace what he'd told him, had made him swear that he'd treat Ace well, promise that he'd never push Ace into anything Ace wasn't ready for.

Marco had been a bit outraged by that. As if he'd ever force Ace into anything that wasn't entirely consensual! He cared about Ace way too much for that and told Izou as much. Izou had merely smiled at his reaction and nodded with a simple, "I believe you." and left Marco to it.

Izou wasn't the only one who knew about their relationship either. They'd told Oyaji, and by now the whole crew knew. They'd never attempted to keep it a secret, but they were still very discreet about their relationship in public. They could be found occasionally holding hands in front of the crew, or sometimes Ace would fall asleep, head on Marco's shoulder, as they sat out on deck. Nothing even remotely passionate, though. They didn't want to make things awkward for their friends, so their affections in public were limited and chaste.

At first people had been surprised by the news. Some had found it a little unsettling or immoral, but over time things had settled down, and even if there were still a few people who didn't altogether approve, they could at least tolerate. Everything was going well. Marco was happier than he thought possible, in a relationship with a person he really loved, and he had a warm, supportive family all around. It was near utopian. _If heaven exists, this must be what it's like_. Marco thought with a smile. _Because I can't imagine anything better._

"Oi, Marco! Earth to Marco! Do you copy? Over." Marco snapped out of his reverie and looked over to Ace. Ace had been waving a hand in front of his face, trying to get him out of his zoning.

"Hmm? What is it?" Ace chuckled.

"Oyaji wants to talk to you. Thatch said so twice, got miffed you weren't listening, and left."

"Oh." Ace ruffled Marco's hair and bent down, kissing his cheek with a small laugh.

"Space case." He straightened and turned, walking to the still open doorway. He looked over his shoulder back at Marco. "I have to go pack. I'll see you later, okay?" Marco was looking at him, an honest, warm smile lighting his face and eyes. "…What?"

"You're beautiful."

Ace felt his heart clench and a fierce blush lit his face. He spun away, trying to hide the blush and the smile that accompanied it. "Sh-Shut up."

* * *

The afternoon and evening was a blur of packing and preparation, and it was beginning to get late by the time Ace was finished. He collapsed back onto his and Marco's bed with a weary sigh. Marco, seated at his desk not far away, was studying a report by candlelight, his reading glasses shining in the yellow-gold glow. Ace watched him for a moment, trying to memorize that pensive, absorbed look Marco got when he read anything.

"...You look sexy in glasses." An amused smile found its way onto Marco's face and he finished the sentence he was reading before turning to look at Ace.

"You think so?" Ace smirked.

"Know so. Now get over here. It's bedtime. That paper will still be there in the morning." _But I won't._ The thought made Ace sad and he pushed it from his mind, holding the smile on his face. Marco chuckled and pushed himself out of the chair, folding his reading glasses and setting them on the document. He bent slightly and blew out the candle.

Darkness swept over the room and Ace truly couldn't see anything. Marco had a window in his room, but the curtains were down, blocking all but a few lucky rays of moon and starlight. Ace's eyes began to slowly adjust, but even with his pupils dilated he could only barely make out the general shapes of large objects in the room. Marco liked it really dark when he slept. And Ace had above-average night vision, too. Marco's was just on a whole different level.

"Hey. Scootch over." Ace obliged, moving to the other side of the bed. Marco's night vision was better than anyone else's that he'd ever met. It was why he liked having his room so dark at night. Anything brighter was practically daylight to him. It made sleeping hard and was the reason behind his constantly half-lidded eyes. Opening them all the way in daylight was practically blinding and he would only open his eyes all the way in anything from mild candlelight to pitch darkness.

Marco settled himself comfortably on his side. Once he was still Ace didn't take long to move into his established place, back pressed against Marco's front, head near Marco's chin. Marco dropped his arms around Ace's waist, one above, one below, pulling him closer. Ace grabbed one of his hands, slipping his fingers between Marco's. Ace made a satisfied noise feeling the warm solidity of Marco's chest against his back.

Marco pressed his face into Ace's hair, inhaling deeply. Ace, as ever, smelled of cinnamon, black tea, and just a trace of wood smoke. Marco pressed a kiss into the top of Ace's head.

"Goodnight, Ace. I'll wake you up in the morning when you have to leave."

"Mnh." Ace snuggled his head under Marco's chin. "Why don't we just skip the whole "waking up" part, how does that sound?" Marco chuckled and Ace felt the vibration of it against his back. As Marco's quiet laughter subsided Ace gave a massive yawn and pressed further into Marco's warmth. "Well, in any case, I need to get some sleep. Goodnight, Marco. I love you." Marco kissed his head again.

"I love you too, Ace." Ace loved it whenever Marco told him he loved him. There was always something special about Marco's voice when he said it, a slight change in intonation. Every time Marco said those words that special note was there, and it spoke of deeper sincerity than just those words could convey, contained deeper emotion than the words alone ever could. 'I love you' was sometimes used for family or pets or very close friends, but the way Marco said it to _him_... it was more. It spoke of possessing but also giving, receiving without asking. The way Marco said 'I love you' seemed to say_ everything about you makes this world a better place to be. _Ace loved Marco's 'I love you's because they said _you're special and you're mine_. But more than that, above all else, Ace loved it when Marco said 'I love you' because of what Marco was really saying beneath even that.

_I'm yours. _

* * *

Ace had always hated goodbyes.

He stood on the deck of the Moby Dick staring out at the starlit sea. More people than Ace was expecting had actually woken up to see them off. By now he'd said his fair share of farewells and given plenty of hugs. It was beginning to depress him, honestly. Saying goodbye felt way too final. Ace like to think that everyone believed he was actually going to _come back_ from this trip, but saying goodbye seemed way more serious than that, like he was never going to see them again. That was why he hated goodbyes. If he said goodbye to someone he wanted to actually mean it, and if he actually meant it that meant it was final and Ace didn't like finality like that. An insistent tugging on Ace's arm pulled him out of his thoughts and he directed his gaze in that direction.

Marco's face was serious, his blue eyes locking with Ace's. He nodded off to the side, indicating a place a little removed from the crowd. Ace followed where Marco led, up to the railing near the bow of the Moby Dick. He stopped beside Marco, leaning on the railing, staring out at the stars. A smile came to his face.

"Remember two months ago when there was that meteor shower? We sat out here all night looking for shooting stars. We must have seen hundreds." Ace closed his eyes, the memory floating back to him. His smile pulled wider. "The air was a bit hotter than it is now. It was June then. It was so quiet...like there was no one else. Just me, you, and the sky." He slid his hand along the railing until he found Marco's and squeezed it gently. "...I liked that night."

Marco made a quiet sound of assent and squeezed Ace's hand back. He tugged on Ace's hand, pulling him so they were facing one another. He swept some hair from Ace's face, sighing deeply.

"What am I going to do without you?" Ace faked a thoughtful expression.

"Well I assumed you'd be breathing and eating and sleeping and working, but if you've got something else planned I guess that's cool too." The mirth faded from Ace's eyes and he smiled softly at Marco, leaning into his hand. "It's not forever. I'll be back before you know it."

"Ace, just..." Marco's voice was serious, but he cut himself off, clenching his jaw and looking away.

"What is it?" Marco took a deep breath and looked back to Ace, meeting his eyes seriously.

"Don't do anything reckless, okay? Just..." Marco again trailed off. He closed his eyes and pulled Ace close, embracing him. He whispered the next words into Ace's hair. "Just promise me you'll come back home." Ace smiled into Marco's neck, wrapping his arms around Marco's torso, trying to sear into his memory exactly how he felt at this moment. The warmth of Marco's arms around him, the comforting, rhythmic thump of Marco's heart, and the feeling of being protected, of someone honestly and deeply caring about his wellbeing. It was a wonderful feeling, and Ace hoped he'd remember how he felt at this moment forever.

"I promise."

* * *

Ace watched the Moby Dick's fading silhouette against the dawn-red sky. He still fancied he could see Marco waving from the bow, but knew they were far too distant for that to be true. Ace turned away from his watching with a smile, spinning to look in front of them instead. He didn't need to look back. He'd see the Moby Dick again. It was his home, his place of belonging, right by Marco's side.

Because while everyone else had said goodbye, Marco had smiled and waved lazily, blue eyes full of confidence as he sent Ace off with three words, three words that meant far more to Ace than any goodbye ever could.

_See you later._

* * *

(A/N: And there's the first chapter. Cheesy? Yup. But I love that stuff. :) Not going to lie, I'm a die-hard romantic. All the passionate, cliché romance, all that gooey mushy shit, yup. It's just so perfect. Cuz nothing like that really happens in real life, so why not enjoy it in fiction? Anyone who says they don't want their life to turn out like a romantic comedy is most likely lying.

But for those of you who aren't such big dopey fans of kisses in the rain and cliché lines, fear not! This chapter probably contains 85% of all the cliché crap that will appear in this story. I just couldn't help putting it in. C:

Ummm...yeah. To be honest we haven't even really gotten to the plot of the story yet, so if you don't like this chapter you might consider sticking around until the plot actually gets rolling, hopefully somewhere between chapters 4 and 6, if I had to guess. That's where I'm aiming for, anyway.

On a final note, I would like to _implore_ absolutely _all_ of you to review! You really make my day so much better and reviews inspire me to get started on the next chapter(s)!

Well...bye for now, I guess!

Stuff'nStuff)


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Here's the second chapter! Deepest thanks to all of you out there who took the time to review! I'd like to make a shout out to Kyyhkynen for the AMAZING fanart she did for Rhapsody on a Windy Night. It's beautiful. If you want to see it, go to her tumblr (askmarcoandace. tumblr. com). It's seriously beautiful. So thanks to him/her for that!

Umm...not much else to say.

Oh, I said this in an update on the last chapter, but I think I should say it again to make sure you all see it. I don't own the image I used for the cover of this story. If the original artist wants me to take it down for whatever reason, just PM me or leave a request in a review and I'll take it down. :)

SO SORRY IT TOOK ME THIS LONG TO UPDATE! School swallowed me. That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it. *cough*andIgotsuperaddictedtoSupern atural*cough**cough*

Alright, here we go!)

* * *

_~When the day has come~_

"Oi, Ace. Wake up." Ace felt someone shaking his shoulder and groaned. He didn't _want_ to wake up. He was warm and comfortable and...well, did anyone really need anything more? The shaking continued.

Ace refused to open his eyes. "What do you _want?_" Ace opened his eyes just enough to see, squinting at a clock on the wall, trying to make out what it said. "What time even _is_ it? It can't be later than, what, two in the morning?"

"One thirty." Ace's eyes were more adjusted now and he could at least kind of make out large objects in the room.

"What's so important that it can't wait till _at least_ nine?"

"We're at the island. We're going to be docking in a few minutes." Ace's eyes snapped fully open. _Oh. That's right. The mission._ He'd forgotten. He'd thought he was home. Ace sat up, rubbing his eyes. _It's been a while since I was last out in the field. _He took a deep breath. _Alright. Business time. Focus, Ace._

"I thought we weren't supposed to get there until tomorrow afternoon?" Ace was more fully awake, in the focused mode he got into during work or missions. He saw Thatch shrug.

"I...thought I'd try to expedite the process a little." He patted Ace on the shoulder and Ace could tell he was smiling. "Somebody's got a pretty important day coming up. I'd hate for you to miss it." Ace blinked.

"...Thank you." Thatch scratched the back of his head.

"Yeah, well...Marco'd kill me if I didn't, and you're no fun when you're depressed." Thatch was flustered. He didn't really know how to deal with any kind of emotional situation. Always redirected it into humor or otherwise diffused the moment. Ace smiled in the dark and carefully stood from the hammock. Thatch liked to act gruff and callous, but Ace could see right through it.

Ace yawned, stretching his back and shoulders. They'd been off the Moby Dick now for two days. It was supposed to take about 4 to get to the island they were aiming for, but because of Thatch they'd gotten there almost 36 hours ahead of schedule. If they kept up this timeframe, they'd be back before October even started.

Ace walked past Thatch, going up the stairs and heading out onto deck. The sky was still pitch black, the stars as bright and clear as shards of glass. The air was cool on Ace's skin, and he gave a slight shiver at a breeze. They were headed to a fall island, and with the island's climate and the fact that it was late September the nights were beginning to get colder.

The island rose ahead of them, a dark hulking silhouette on the horizon, looming like a sleeping dragon.

They were still a few leagues out, but with the fairly swift tailwind, they'd be there soon. Ace sized up the island in front of them. It was bigger than he'd anticipated. Lights on the shore still twinkled and flickered, looking like a dim reflection of the sky above. Apparently the island's city had grown larger since the last time Ace had been to the island, maybe 10 months ago. Ace scowled in annoyance. The base had probably changed too.

He'd been to this island once before on a scouting mission. The town had been about half the size it was looking to be now, and Ace wouldn't be surprised if the Navy base here had grown as well. The marines would have changed the layout. Probably an entirely different floorplan than it'd been before. It meant they'd have to scout out the base again before they actually broke in with the intention of stealing the fruit. That'd take a few days at least, but Ace wasn't going to take chances by jumping in there without a comprehensive knowledge of how to get out if things got ugly.

"How long until we get there?" Ace said the words distractedly, trying to come up with a way of either getting the blueprints to the base or finding some other way of learning the layout with minimal risk and minimal preparation and execution time.

"Probably about half an hour." Teach responded. "Should we pull into the main harbor?" Ace shook his head, bringing himself out of future plans and back into the moment.

"No. Pull around the back of the island. If push comes to shove, we don't want the marines locking us in by closing the port. See if you can't find a cove or something on the opposite side of the island."

"Yes, Taichou." He heard Teach's retreating footsteps and brought a hand up to his face, trying to rub the lingering bleariness out of his still-sleepy eyes.

* * *

Pulling into the island after that had been a fast process. They found an area on the uninhabited side of the island where they could dock and the ease of long-practice had it done efficiently and without incident.

This side of the island was forested, the island's climate lending itself to maples and oaks. The trees, seemingly as old as the rocks, towered overhead, their wide leaves autumn-stained all the shades of amber, orange, yellow, and scarlet that the human mind could imagine. It was still dark, so the colors were washed out in moonlight, but it wasn't hard to imagine how brilliant they'd look in the sun.

After a few hours of hiking through the woods they'd arrived on the other side of the forest, a good ways above the town. The sky was just beginning to be touched with grey, and it wasn't hard to see that everyone was doing their best not to nod off where they stood. _We're going to need somewhere to stay while we're here. _There were probably a dozen or more inns in the city, but Ace preferred to be a little more removed than that. He scanned the countryside, looking for anything that might serve their purposes.

The city center was packed with buildings and houses, all crammed as close as they could get to the water and the trade travelling ships must bring, and the further you looked from the town the further apart the houses became. They grew sparser and sparser until finally it was just a spattering on the slopes nearest to the forest, a few right up against it. Ace's eyes caught on those in particular.

Ace knew how to disappear into a crowd, knew how to hide in plain sight, but to be honest he'd always preferred evading a tail in the wilderness. He knew how to survive there, knew how to use every aspect of nature to his advantage. Cities and towns differed from island to island, but nature was always the same. Survival of the fittest. Ace knew how to live by those rules. Knew how in a way many others didn't, which he could easily turn to his advantage.

"Why don't we check out those houses over there? See if we can't find one that's uninhabited or abandoned. Sound good?" Tired assent from the other two, and Ace led the way again. Even Thatch seemed too out of it to question. Well, being awake practically all night and then hiking a freaking mountain with no clearly marked trail did that to you.

The first house they came across was clearly occupied. Meager light, candlelight, slipped through the wooden slats of the shutters, and quiet movement could be heard within. The next house had been promising, but after checking a few windows and finding some people asleep they'd been forced to move on once again. The next house seemed equally promising, no light coming through the shutters or muted conversations within. Ace approached the house warily nonetheless. People awakened by other people fumbling about in their yards tended to be pissed off. And Ace wanted their presence on the island to remain unknown to the marines for as long as possible.

After a few minutes investigation, he waved the others over. "I think this one is going to work. Nobody's been here in a while. And I don't think anyone's planning on coming back any time soon." He whispered.

"How can you tell that?" Ace nodded his head in the direction of the front door.

"Look at those flower beds. Whatever was growing there was dug up a while ago, few months ago I'd say. And the mailbox was very dusty, even on the inside. The hinges on the shutters are starting to get a little rusty from rain, too, which takes a few months at least. The house looks like it's been completely stripped of anything personal, which is what makes me think nobody's really going to come back. You don't take _all_ your stuff with you on a vacation." Thatch still seemed a little reserved.

"And you're sure nobody's in there?" Ace nodded affirmative. Thatch yawned but tried to pass it off as a sigh.

"Well then, I guess it'll do. Can you pick the lock on the door?" Ace raised an eyebrow.

"What, lost your skills?" Thatch smacked him in the side of the head.

"No, jerk, I'm just tired after the damn hike." Ace only chuckled, turning away and walking to the door. He crouched in front of it, pulling a set of picks from his pocket and getting to work on the lock. He could still hear Thatch grumbling over his shoulder. "Damn brat. Of course I know how to pick a lock. I've only gotten us into ever place _ever_." Ace paid him no mind, knowing Thatch wasn't _really_ looking for a response.

Click.

The lock opened fairly easily, and Ace didn't hesitate to twist the knob and send the door swinging in. The hinges squeaked a small protest, but they gave way easily enough. Ace stepped into the house quietly, still being cautious. He was almost certain that there wasn't anyone in the house, but there was no good in being _overly_ reckless. He'd promised to avoid doing that, after all. A small smile came to his face, thinking of Marco's face, of the tension in his shoulders. He always worried. No matter what Ace said or did he always worried. But Ace's promise had seemed to ease that at least a little.

After a quick room-by-room check, it was clear there was nobody in the house and there hadn't been for quite a while. Once sufficiently satisfied that they were alone, they agreed that there was nothing more to be done in one night, and had headed off to sleep. Well...two of the three did. They agreed that someone should keep watch, and Teach had volunteered first. They'd trade off in about 3 hours.

The couch Ace had selected as his resting place of choice was quite comfortable, and paired with the down comforter he'd found in a closet, it was just about heaven. He'd been asleep in nanoseconds.

* * *

Thatch was on the very cusp of sleep, just about to drift off into that wonderful, welcoming black when a creaking floorboard snapped him back into full wakefulness. He would have been annoyed if it hadn't instantly put him on edge. _Was Ace wrong? Is there someone still in the house? I didn't see anyone when we were looking around, but I could have missed something..._ Thatch stood from bed, senses on high alert. He grabbed his sword from where it'd been leaning against the wall, quickly and silently strapping it to his waist before easing himself across the floor to the door.

He opened it slowly, just enough for him to peer through to the room beyond. At first he couldn't see anything and had to wait for his eyes to adjust. It probably took about thirty seconds, but to Thatch it felt like an eternity. That was thirty seconds he couldn't see a threat. Not to mention Ace was sleeping in that room. If there really was some kind of adversary in there, either it hadn't woken Ace up, which meant it was _damn_ sneaky (Ace only ever slept deeply on the Moby Dick or when he knew someone else was on watch), or...Thatch didn't allow himself to follow that train of thought. His eyes finally adjusted enough for Thatch to see and they widened in surprise before narrowing. _Oh _hell_ no._

Thatch crossed the room in an instant, seizing Teach by the collar of his shirt and dragging him out the front door, into the cool night air beyond. He ignored Teach's spluttering and choking until they were outside. Thatch spun Teach around so they were face to face.

"What the _hell_ do you think you're doing?"

"I-" Thatch raised a hand.

"Never mind, I don't think I want to know what _you_ think you were doing. What I _saw_ you doing was fucking creepy. You're _watching him sleep?_ What the _fuck_ is up with _that?_"

"It's-"

"It was fucking _rhetorical_." Thatch felt the growing urge to punch Teach across the face. Maybe knock out a few _more_ teeth. "All I know is that you're a fucking _creeper._ You listen to me and you listen _very_ carefully. You are here for one reason and one reason only: to learn how to not fuck up your job because Ace is considerate enough to teach you. You serve no useful purpose on this mission, and I will not hesitate to send you back to the Moby Dick in a fucking _rowboat_ if I think you are in any way inhibiting the completion of this mission. That includes mental and emotional strain on both Ace and I. Rage fits quite nicely into the 'emotional strain' category, so you've already fucked up with me. If you want to continue to be a part of this you will back the _fuck_ off Ace and if I _ever_ see you do something that might be considered anything one _hair_ beyond absolutely fucking normal, I will kick your fat ass all the way back home, assuming I don't kill you first. Ace isn't interested in you. Never has been, never will be. He's in a steady relationship with Marco and the two of them are happier than I've ever seen either of them before. You will _not_ fuck that up. I will not _let_ you screw up my best friends' happiness. _Am I understood?"_ Teach made no response, and after a moment, Thatch threw him away in disgust. "Why don't you do your fucking job and keep watch." Thatch headed back towards the house, pausing at the door to turn and look at Teach one last time. "You lay one finger on Ace and you're a dead man, you hear me? _Dead._"

* * *

Ace sat out on the back porch of the house, listening to the wind sigh through the branches. He'd always loved that sound. Ace closed his eyes and leaned his head back, letting the wind hit his face more fully and taking a deep breath of the maple-scented air. Fall had always been his favorite season. He heard approaching footsteps and turned his head, still smiling.

Thatch approached, two mugs of a steaming liquid in his hands. Ace accepted the mug offered him and took a sip. They sat in silence for a few minutes, both content to watch the trees.

"So...any idea how we're going to get into the base?" Thatch said. Ace inclined his head.

"I've got an idea...but we're going to have to wait a little before we can start."

"Mind sharing?" Ace chuckled.

"Wouldn't you rather it was a surprise?" Thatch gave him a flat look. "Listen, I promise nobody's going to get hurt. This plan is practically bulletproof. I could even pull it off on my own if you're that opposed. Trust me. If/When this all goes according to plan, we'll come out on the other side with at least two uniforms and identities that'll get us through navy security and into the building. We'll have easy access to the blueprints and I can redraw them later. Then we'll have a layout of the building and we can make a plan on how to actually get in, get the fruit, and get out."

"...Okay." They fell back into silence again, Thatch left wondering what exactly Ace had planned. After a few minutes Ace moved, pulling an object from beside him on the porch. Thatch's eyes caught on it for the first time and he raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know you brought your guitar." Ace turned and flashed Thatch a smile, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment.

"Well...with Marco and my anniversary coming up I thought I'd write us a song." Ace was blushing lightly. "I don't have the whole thing written yet, only the first verse and chorus. I've been recording it in a tone dial so I don't forget. Writing sheet music is too much of a pain." Thatch smiled.

"That's a good idea. What's it called?" Ace had resumed tuning the guitar.

"Well...I don't have a definite title yet, but I'll find something in the lyrics that works." Thatch nodded and stood.

"I guess I'll leave you alone, then. Come and get me when it's time to head out to complete this plan of yours." He grabbed the empty mugs and headed back into the house, but stopped just inside the door, listening carefully. After a few moments he heard the click of a tone dial, then the first notes of the guitar, and, after that, Ace's voice.

"I am thinking it's a sign

that the freckles in our eyes

are mirror images and

when we kiss they're perfectly aligned

and I have to speculate

that God himself did make us into

corresponding

shapes like puzzle pieces from the clay.

True it may seem like a stretch

but it's thoughts like this that

catch my troubled head

when we're away

when I am missing you to death.

They will see us waving from such great heights

"come down now!" They'll say

but everything looks perfect from far away

"come down now!" But we'll stay." The last note faded off and again Thatch heard the click of the tone dial. Ace then began experimenting with the accompaniment, messing with the chord arrangements of the next verse. Thatch, smiling, walked further inside the house, dumping the dishes in the sink. Ace always did give the best gifts.

* * *

"Umm...what the hell are we doing here?" Thatch glanced around the street they were currently walking down before his eyes settled on Ace, looking at him like he thought he'd gone entirely crazy.

"It's all part of the plan. Just give me a minute." Ace was scanning the sides of the street like he was looking for someone in particular.

"Coming to a _red light district_ is part of your plan?" Ace still wasn't really paying Thatch any attention.

"Yeah, it is. If this is going to work we're going to need some help." His eyes seemed to catch on someone in particular and he crossed the street, coming to a stop before a building, window boxes overflowing with roses. A woman, her low-necked dress not hiding much, approached, sultry smile on her face.

"Hey there, honey. What can I do for you?" Ace tried not to sneeze at the purfume billowing off her in waves. He forced a smile.

"I've got a special job I'm going to need some help with. Any way I can speak to your boss?" She straightened, as she'd leaned forward slightly, the lewd smile falling off her face.

"Oh." A different kind of smile came to her face, this one a touch more cunning. "A 'special job' huh? What kind?" She beckoned for them to follow her and opened the door to the building, leading them inside. "Depending on what it is you want done you're going to have to speak with the boss. She handles all the 'special's." After walking through the main room and down a hallway, the woman opened another door, stepping aside to let them pass.

A woman sat behind the desk, a petite brunette with curly hair and grey-green eyes. Her dress was much more modestly cut than the previous woman's. She had been working with what looked to Ace to be an expenses ledger when they'd been let in. She looked up on their entry, instantly looking them up and down and the look in her eyes told Ace it was more of a threat assessment than anything. Their previous guide ushered them inside before addressing the brunette.

"They're here for a 'special'." The brunette nodded.

"Thank you, Patricia. Do me a favor and make sure nobody comes this way, would you?"

"Yes ma'am." 'Patricia' closed the door behind her, obvious respect in her tone. The brunette looked between the two of them again, not rising from the desk. She waited a moment before speaking, probably until she was sure Patricia was making sure nobody was listening.

"Hello Thatch and Portgas D. Ace, second and fourth division commanders of the Whitebeard pirates. What can I do for you?" Ace tried not to show surprise. She knew who they were? Who else knew? Ace caught the look in her eyes, that same assessing cool that had been there when she'd looked them up and down before. He steadied. _It was a test. She wanted to see what we'd do if she made it clear she knew exactly who we were. She wants us to know she has cards too._ Ace smiled. He liked this woman.

"Hello. I'm impressed you knew who we were." She smiled at him almost patronizingly.

"A disguise can only do so much. I memorize more than just the surface when I look at bounty posters. You can't change your bone structure." She gestured to two chairs in front of her desk. "Please, sit down." They sat and she regarded them for a moment in silence before extending a hand. "I suppose it's rude of me to address you by your names and not let you address me by one of mine. You can call me Eve." Ace shook her hand first, then Thatch. Ace raised an eyebrow.

""One of?"" She smiled coolly.

"It's better not to go by your real name when you do what I do and have the enemies I have." Ace nodded.

"I can accept that. Though I hope you don't consider us your enemies." She waved a hand at him.

"Enough of this pointless politician's nonsense. Tell me what you're really here for. We'll see if I'll help." Ace glanced at Thatch who nodded.

"You know who we are, so you've doubtless deduced that we're here on a mission." She nodded and Ace continued. "Our current immediate goal is to get into the marine base and gain access to a floor plan. After that we-" She raised a hand and he stopped.

"I don't want to know the details. I can't be arrested as an accessory to whatever it is you're here for it you never told it to me." She took a breath. "Body count?"

"What do you mean?"

"If me and my girls help you, how many people are going to die? And who?" She was looking at him seriously.

"If everything goes according to plan, nobody." Her eyes were hard.

"Things very rarely go 'according to plan' with you people." Ace sighed.

"If something goes wrong, we're going to have to blow out of that base. It's why we need a floor plan. If we aren't stumbling around blindly we can find a quicker exit and less people would have to die or be hurt."

"And civilians?"

"We'd never involve civilians in a fight that isn't theirs." Thatch said. "Marines know the risk, but those people aren't related. They'll be left entirely out of it." She nodded. She fell silent for a while, closing her eyes, seemingly thinking. Ace waited in silence. After a few minutes she opened her eyes, but didn't address them, instead pulling a few blank sheets of paper from her desk and reaching for a pen.

The pen fairly flew over the paper, and it was only another minute in a half before she pushed three sheets of paper across her desk towards them. Ace's eyes widened and he lifted one labeled 'first floor'. If he was impressed before, he was awed now.

"And this is accurate?" His voice was hushed. He could feel her eyes resting on him.

"Yes. Perfectly. Down to the last broom cupboard." Ace was still staring at the drawings in wonder.

"How did you even _get_ this?"

"Where do you think the marines take the girls when they hire them? I made the original sketch based on their descriptions." Ace's eyes snapped up at this.

"Listen, this is helpful but I need more than the word of a few possibly drugged girls before I break into a navy base." Eve scoffed.

"Please. My girls are professionals. If anyone was drugged it was the marines. And I've verified the information myself. I trust my girls, but there's no harm in certainty. After I had a sketch I sent Patricia to one of the architects. And if a copy of the blueprints went missing? Well, there was no proof anyone could find. That sketch is accurate."

"You're sure you perfectly retained the information? I didn't see you use a reference image." Eve smiled at him.

"Don't patronize me. I have a photographic memory. The information is accurate. I could walk through that building backwards based on those images." Ace finally relented, the seriousness leaving his eyes.

"Well this speeds things up for us. I was going to ask you to have some of your girls steal some navy uniforms so we could find a floorplan ourselves, but if this is as accurate as you say that won't be necessary." He leaned forward. "So tell me, how much will this cost?"

"One life." Ace blinked.

"I beg your pardon?" Eve smiled.

"We're not going to be exchanging money. I did you a favor, now you're going to do me one." Her eyes went hard. "There's a marine, an officer, by the name of rear-admiral James White. He sleeps in the room I circled on the second floor. He's a threat to my business."

"What do you mean by-"

"I mean my girls are coming back with bruises." Eve snapped. She took a deep breath, trying to calm down. "They're coming back with bruises and too scared to work again for another three months. It has to stop. That son of a bitch deserves to die." Ace was silent. Eve still looked angry. "Still don't believe me? Fine!" She moved then, but she didn't stand. As she came around the desk Ace's eyes widened.

Eve was in a wheelchair.

She snarled at Ace, bitter loss clear in her voice. "That son of a bitch was drunk to hell when he hired me. I was eighteen years old at the time. Barely more than a _girl_. It was my first time working the job. He took me back to the base like they always do. He fucked me until I _bled_ and then he beat me half to death for wanting to leave. When I tried to run he broke my leg. It was only because some of the other girls in the building heard me screaming and came to get me that I'm even _alive._ They took me to a doctor where I remained in critical condition for nearly two weeks. My leg that had been broken was badly mutilated and there was no saving it. The doctor had to amputate. I haven't been able to run for nearly ten years now, and I'll never be able to again. I'll never be able to dance. I'll never be able to walk. I was offered no compensation, neither from the navy or from him. He didn't even pay for sleeping with me." Her gaze was practically burning into Ace. "And in the last ten years he's done the same to others. Two weeks ago a girl _died_. And _nobody seems to care._ I won't let it happen again. Never. Again. So either you'll take the information I've given you and kill him, or you'll get the hell out of my office and I will." Ace met her eyes, his expression sad.

"I'm sorry for what happened to you."

"Tch. The past is the past. There's no changing it, so why don't you do what you can to change the future." Ace met her eyes for another moment before reaching out and taking the drawings from her desk. Thatch blinked at him.

"Ace, is this really-"

"This is the price of the information. I think it's fair." The anger had faded from Eve's face and voice.

"Leave no evidence. Nothing to link it to either of us." Ace stood and Thatch followed suit.

"Don't patronize me. We're professionals too, you know." She smiled.

"I wouldn't have hired any less."

* * *

Ace sat at his desk, studying the sketches. He'd been working for about three hours, and he still had a good way to go. He tapped a pen against his lip, raising his other hand to rub his forehead. He sighed, turning back to the notes he'd been working on.

"Got a plan yet?" Ace turned his head as Teach entered. He smiled wearily.

"Still working on it. I've found a good entry point and a possible route, but timing is going to be everything. Is Thatch still out watching their patrol patterns?"

"Yeah. He said he'd be back by midnight." Ace groaned and rubbed his forehead again, trying to stave off the slowly encroaching headache.

"Well, that information will be helpful. Or a ridiculous pain in the ass." Teach raised an eyebrow.

"How so?"

"Well, I think I've figured out a route we can take to get to the fruit, but if there's a million patrols that way I'm going to have to map out an entirely different route. Avoiding raising the alarm is everything. If they know we're here they'll guard the fruit a lot more carefully. We have to act soon, though."

"Why's that?" Ace sighed.

"Because while getting a devil fruit is a massive snag in their gigantic bureaucracy, it won't take them _forever_ to figure out who to give it to. We need to get it before anyone eats it." Ace stretched his shoulders, feeling tension ease from them. "What time is it now?"

"It's about 9:30." Ace nodded.

"Thatch'll probably start back in about two hours." Ace looked back at the assorted papers on his desk and sighed. "I need to take a break from this or my head's going to explode. I'll keep watch for a few hours, you can go ahead and get some sleep." Ace leaned his elbows on the table and cradled his head in his hands. The headache was getting worse, and it was starting to slow Ace's thought process. He dimly registered approaching footsteps.

"You're the one who needs some sleep, Ace. You've been working on this all day, surely it can wait until morning." Sleep did sound appealing. Maybe it would rid him of this thrice-damned headache. "You need to relax, you're overworking yourself." Again, Ace only dimly registered that the voice was closer than before. Ace felt like he was on the very edge of one of his narcolepsy attacks, somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. He couldn't think. Warm hands settled on his shoulders.

This time the voice was a mere whisper, breath hot on Ace's neck and ear. "...Of course, there are other ways of relaxing." Ace's eyes snapped open, instantly coming back to full wakefulness.

He threw an elbow back, catching Teach hard in the stomach, and followed by grabbing one of Teach's wrists. He spun as he stood from the chair, twisting the arm behind Teach's back. He swept Teach's feet out from under him and gravity carried the two of them to the floor. With his other hand he drew the knife from his belt, holding the tip of it just above the skin where skull met vertebra, where the spinal cord was most vulnerable. He was left kneeling on Teach's back, one knee digging harshly into Teach's spine between the shoulder blades, other knee on the floor for balance. His left arm was employed twisting Teach's arm behind him at a painful angle, his right hand holding the blade where he could kill Teach in an instant. Ace allowed a moment of silence to pass, that Teach might fully recognize _exactly_ how dead he could be. After that moment, he twisted Teach's arm further, listening to the gasp of pain. Ace's voice was deadly.

"You listen to me and you listen _very_ carefully. The next limb of yours that comes into contact with me will be _permanently_ disconnected from your body. Stay the hell off me." Ace released Teach, turning away and leaving the room. He headed through the living room and out the front door, only pausing to grab his blanket.

Ace took several large lungfuls of the cool night air. His pounding heart was only just beginning to settle. He could at least _tolerate_ Teach looking at him more than was strictly speaking necessary, but this had been way the _hell_ out of what Ace was willing to deal with. In the moment, Ace had actually momentarily considered killing Teach. Ace shivered, thinking of Teach's hands on his shoulders. _Fucking creeper._ Ace had been focusing all his energy on the upcoming break in and had let his guard down. It _would not_ happen again.

As time passed, Ace began to calm back down. The autumn air had a soothing effect on him, and being wrapped in the fluffy blanket was calming. He watched the stars and listened to the wind and began to feel equilibrium return.

Seeing Thatch come up the hill was a relief as well.

As he approached Ace actually found himself smiling. When Thatch reached him, he stopped and sat down next to Ace. "Hey, man. I think I've got everything you needed." Thatch blinked, seeming to see Ace's face for the first time. "Whoa. Dude, you okay? You look like hell." Ace gave a tired sigh and rubbed at his face.

"Just a bit tired. And, well..." Ace trailed off. Thatch's eyes sharpened.

"What is it? Did something happen?" Ace forced a smile.

"No. I'm just a little homesick." Thatch seemed to relax and only as he removed it did Ace notice his hand had settled unobtrusively on his sword. "So, what did you find out?"

"It's actually good news. They have a very simple patrol path all the way around the outer wall of the base, but once you're inside that, the patrols thin out. This place is freaking _huge_ too, so they're spread pretty thin even where they're more regular. It shouldn't be a problem to slip by them and over the wall. The parade grounds are practically unpatrolled, and there are a ton of low windows. There are only a few actual doors. The main entrance, a fairly large side door, and a small door in back, probably for food delivery. I didn't get a close look, but it wouldn't surprise me if that door's pickable. The other two are a little too visible for my taste, and like I said, there's a bunch of low windows if that looks to be a better option. I didn't get a look at the interior obviously, but based on the number of people they're using to patrol the outer wall and the few on the parade grounds, it wouldn't surprise me if that's the majority of their security." Ace chewed his lip thoughtfully. "Oh, and there's something else too." Ace looked back at Thatch once more.

"What is it?" Thatch grinned and reached into his bag. Ace outright gasped in shock as he withdrew it.

It was a devil fruit.

"What the actual hell?! Where the did you _get_ that?_"_

"It's not real. It was a gift from Eve. She says they actually check on the fruit to make sure it's still there every so often. This, according to her, looks just like the real thing. When we grab it we can put this in its place and nobody will be the wiser until someone tries eating it and nothing happens." Ace blinked.

"...Smart." A moment of silence passed.

"How's it looking on your end? You think you've got us a route to get to it?" Ace nodded firmly.

"Based on what you told me, I think I've got something very usable. There's just one thing, though. Something I don't think you're going to like." Thatch looked wary.

"What is it?" Ace took a deep breath.

"In order to get both the fruit and the rear-admiral, we're going to have to split up about halfway into the base."

"_What?!"_

"We have to keep our deal with Eve and we have to fulfill Oyaji's orders. The safest way of doing it is by splitting up. The fruit's in the basement, below ground level, and the rear-admiral sleeps in a room on the second floor." He eyed Thatch's face. "I knew you wouldn't like this idea."

"You're right. I don't. Find another way." Ace sighed.

"There _is_ no other way. I mean, theoretically yes we could go together to both objectives, but that'll lengthen the amount of time we have to spend in there _and_ the number of marines we'll probably come across. The less time we spend in there the better. This really is the safest way."

"...You shouldn't have agreed to Eve's price for the information."

"Doesn't matter now. Now that I know what he's done in the past, even _I_ think he deserves to die. If I'd found out what he'd done and Eve hadn't asked us to kill him I'd probably have gone to kill him on my own. This bastard deserves it and I won't let him hurt anyone else." Thatch met Ace's eyes evenly and they stared each other down for a moment. Thatch finally sighed and looked away.

"You're really set on this?"

"Yes."

"Fine. But if you're not at wherever we choose for a rendezvous point within three minutes of our selected time, I'm coming after your ass." Ace smiled.

"Wouldn't have it any other way."

* * *

The next day was spent in preparation. Ace painstakingly memorized every twist and turn of every corridor on the map, and had given them to Thatch that he might either memorize them or take them with him if he needed. They'd chosen the gear they'd need and had packed it according to the order they'd need it on the mission.

Ace pulled on the somewhat baggy mottled grey and black shirt, matching in pattern and looseness with his pants. The mottled greys blended better in darkness than pure black, and the looseness of the fabric made for a less human silhouette. Ace had a short, curved blade strapped to his back, his dagger at his waist, a blade strapped to the underside of his left arm if he needed it, and, for a worst-case scenario, a dagger in his boot. He pulled on the backpack with the grappling hooks, throwing knives, and a few other odds and ends Ace thought might be helpful. The backpack sat in such a way that it hid the majority of the sheath on Ace's back, but the handle of the blade was still very reachable.

Ace stood in front of a mirror, studying his appearance. It'd been a while since he'd done something like this. Ace reached into a bowl to his right, scooping out a quantity of the paste within. It was a mixture of ash and oil, dark grey in color. Ace smeared the somewhat gritty paste on his face and neck, ensuring all of his skin was covered, even his ears and eyelids. His hands were next, the sticky mixture covering his skin. Ace opened his eyes after applying a last coating to his face. He took a deep breath.

_Showtime._

* * *

(A/N: End chapter 2. Enjoyed it? It was actually pretty fun to write. :) I don't really have anything of value to say down here, so I'll let you be on your way. All I wanted was to implore you all to review. You really make me happy when you do, and it motivates me to write. :) see you next time, guys!

-Stuff'nStuff)


	3. Chapter 3

(A/N: Hello! Yes the update was slow, I'm well aware. I warned you at the beginning of the story that it would be that way, though. And they're probably going to stay slow as now we're winding down to finals, and, worse, the AP test. Yeah I'm probably going to get, like, a 3. Whatevs. I try. Anyway, I failed to mention this in my last chapter, so I'm saying it now: The song Ace sang part of is Such Great Heights. I like the version by Iron & Wine, but the original song is by The Postal Service. Good song, you should check it out if you have time. :) Well, enough pointless blatherings. You're not here to listen to me.

No anonymous reviews this time, so we'll just jump right in. :)

**WARNING:** **This chapter contains VIOLENCE and SWEARING.**

* * *

_~That I've lost my way around~_

"Fuck." Ace whispered, barely audible. He turned to almost glare at Thatch. "You could have mentioned the fucking _dogs._" Thatch half-glared back at him.

"I would have if they'd been there yesterday." His voice was equally soft, but was hissed with the same frustration that had laced Ace's. Ace sighed and turned to survey the base again.

The wall around the perimeter was pretty damn high and looked thick enough to withstand at least a few cannonballs. Twelve guards, all in pairs, guarded this outer wall, four stationed near the massive gates and the other eight patrolling all around the perimeter. There were six dogs in total, one to each pair of guards. They looked for the most part like german shepherds, but a certain ferocity in their muzzle suggested something more feral.

They looked positively vicious.

The marines holding them looked almost nervous to be around them, and the dogs were picking up on it. They tugged at their leads, testing the give, pulling their masters forward instead of docilely trotting at their heels. If they passed another patrol with a dog, they would snap and lunge at one another, barely kept apart by the marines struggling to control them. Ace chewed on this information, knowing there was a way to exploit it and trying to figure out what it was.

"This isn't looking good, Ace. Maybe we should pull back and come up with a different plan. We can always try again tomorrow." Thatch said. Ace barely heard him, though. He was too busy thinking.

"The wind is blowing south by southeast…those dogs, in this wind, can probably smell something upwind…what, 400 feet away? 500?" He mumbled quietly to himself. "We need a way of distracting them without giving ourselves away in the process. The distraction will be easy enough, but how do we mask _our_ scent?" Ace blinked and looked around. After a moment of deep silence he turned to Thatch, face dead serious. "I need you to murder a pine tree."

"Um, excuse me?" Thatch replied, incredulous.

"You. Pine tree. Murder. Now." Ace's face was still serious as he slung his backpack off his shoulders, opening it and rummaging around inside.

"May I ask why?"

"Because we're going to make the Witches' prophecy come true. Birnam Wood will march this day!" Ace looked at Thatch expectantly, but Thatch just stared at him like he was crazy. After the moment began to stretch into awkward, Ace spoke again. "Come on! It's from Macbeth? Act 4? Scene 1?" He flapped his hand impatiently. "Never mind. I forgot you're allergic to classic literature."

"I am not _allergic_ to-" Thatch replied, outraged.

"Name one poem by John Keats." Ace's voice was deadpan and he was giving Thatch that, you're-_so_-about-to-lose-this-argument look.

"That's not fair and you know it. Just because I don't like _poe-"_

"What was the common ideal found in much of romantic poetry and literature?"

"…Um-"

"What book titled after its heroine was and still stands today as a powerful statement on women's rights? I'll give you a hint: it was written by Charlotte Bronte."

"…"

"See? Allergic to classics." Ace turned back to the bag, rifling through it for something specific. "Now are you going to go murder a pine tree or not?"

"Will you at least tell me why?"

Ace, seeming to find what he was looking for, extracted an object from the backpack. "Ah. Found it. Anyway, I need you to kill the tree because pine sap is one of the most damn pungent things in the world. With luck the dogs'll just think we're a tree who's bark got munched by some deer." Thatch looked at him incredulously.

"I'm pretty sure they'll be able to tell we're _not_ when we try to climb the wall." He said.

"Ah, but here's the thing: What's the one scent that's stronger than pine sap to any carnivore with a functioning nose? Blood. Once we get ourselves covered in sap they won't be able to distinguish our scent any more so we're free to go upwind. Once there, it's just a matter of killing a squirrel or something and, based on how little control the marines have over the dogs and how thin they all look, those puppies will come charging into the woods looking for whatever's bleeding, probably dragging at least a few of the marines behind them. While they're out trying to regain control of the dogs, the guard around the wall will be gone or at least reduced. We can get over and inside during that time." Ace said victoriously. _He sure has a flair for the dramatic._ Thatch thought dryly.

"That's great, Ace, and it'll probably get us inside, but what about getting out again? I seriously doubt we can get the fruit and kill the rear-admiral in the time it'll take them to get the dogs back. Then we'll be back to square one but penned _in_ instead of _out._ That's not a situation I fancy being in." That gave Ace pause.

"…I hadn't thought about that." He chuckled. "I knew there was a reason Oyaji sent us both."

"Yeah. So I can keep you from doing stupid shit." Thatch deadpanned. He turned to look back at the base. "…I like your idea for getting in, I really do. We just need a way of getting out." Thatch bit his lip. _Hmm…how do we go about this without raising an alarm? If they know we're here _and_ that we stole their fruit, they'll probably fence us in somehow. Naval patrols around the island, harbor lockdown, patrols of the island, the whole nine yards. Avoiding raising the alarm is everything._ Thatch blinked, an idea growing. _Avoiding _the_ alarm, but not necessarily _an_ alarm._ He turned to Ace.

"Did you bring any kind of explosives? Incendiaries, maybe?" Ace looked at him like he was stupid.

"I'm a walking incendiary." Thatch scowled.

"I mean something with a timer. Something we can set and leave behind." His face and voice were serious. This would work, if they could set it up right. Ace raised an eyebrow.

"Why? What're you thinking?"

"We're going to need a different distraction to get out of the base, something big, right? Something that'll dismantle the patrols around the exterior?"

"Yeah…" Ace said, still not really picking up on what Thatch was getting at.

"So we make them think there's a fire. It'll be convenient, too. What if it just so happens that a certain rear-admiral dies via "asphyxiation"? No evidence, all just a big accident. No questions, no investigation." Ace considered it.

"…Clever." He admonished after a moment.

"How were you planning on killing him?" Thatch asked. If it was some way that wouldn't leave any kind of mark, (Thatch doubted Ace would use any method that would be blatantly obvious murder. They didn't want to leave evidence, after all) it would be readily acceptable as accidental.

"Neurotoxin. Found some poisonous mushrooms and was able to cook something up that'll kill him before he even wakes up." Thatch looked into Ace's face.

"Eve said she wanted justice for what happened to her." He said quietly. Ace stared straight ahead.

"No she said she wanted him dead. I know he's been cruel and I know he deserves to die, but making him suffer won't change what he's done in the past." He looked to Thatch. "So what difference does it make whether he dies quickly or not?"

"…Eve might not like this."

"Yeah, well last time I checked we weren't her mercenaries, Thatch. He'll end up dead. That's what matters. As for incendiaries, I don't have any, but I know how we can make a lot of smoke fast."

"Oh?" This time it was Thatch's turn to be surprised.

"We're going to have to move pretty fast, though. Did you see that cave a ways back? I'm going to need you to go there and if there's bats living in the cave, see if you can't get some guano."

"Bat crap. You're sending me to collect bat crap." Ace raised his hands placatingly.

"It's a natural source of potassium nitrate, otherwise known as saltpeter. You may actually be able to find crystallized bits of it in older pieces of guano. While you're doing that, I'm going to be murdering our pine tree, and seeing if I can't find any plum trees." Ace elaborated before Thatch could cut him off. "Plums are fairly high in sucrose, especially if they're overripe. Once I have the plums I'm going to juice them and you're going to add the saltpeter-"

"In the form of bat shit." Thatch deadpanned, looking less than happy. Ace continued as if he hadn't been interrupted.

"And we just have to boil it for a few minutes until its homogeneous, let it cool and solidify and voila. Smoke central. Assuming we can get enough sucrose from the plums, it could burn upwards of thirty minutes, and saltpeter smokes like crazy. All we have to do is leave that in the rear-admiral's room once he's dead and shut the door. If you want someone to wake up and smell the smoke, we just drop a smaller one in the barracks or a nearby officer's room. But we're going to want to get out of there fast, the smoke isn't exactly healthful in tight quarters."

"…And you're sure this'll work?" Thatch asked, after a slight pause.

"Yes, Thatch. I'm sure." Ace made a shooing motion, and turned to head deeper into the woods surrounding the marine base. "Go get the bat crap. Nighttime won't last forever."

Thatch turned to walk away, but paused. Something was bugging him. "Hey Ace?" Ace turned back to look at him.

"Yeah?"

"How the hell do you know how to make a smoke bomb out of bat crap and rotting fruit?"

Ace only laughed.

* * *

"Sorry about this." Ace muttered under his breath. He took careful aim and threw the knife, watching it sail through the air and into the back of the head of the deer below. The animal jerked, stiffened, and collapsed. Ace jumped down from the tree he'd been perched in and approached the deer. It was dead, the knife, sharpened to nearly a razor yesterday morning, had flown with enough force to embed through the deer's skull and into its brain. It had died instantly, painlessly. Ace still felt a little bad, but it had been necessary.

"We're going to have to haul ass when the dogs start coming." Thatch said. Ace only nodded, not even glancing over his shoulder. He knelt by the dead deer and withdrew the knife from its skull, wiping it on the fur and tucking it back into its sheath. He withdrew his dagger from his waist and held the blade just above the skin near the base of the deer's neck. He took a deep breath.

"So it begins."

He made a clean, deep cut down the deer's stomach, releasing a flood of blood and cutting into the abdominal cavity. The organs were left exposed, the stench of blood and new death filling the air.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, a low, fierce baying began. Ace stood, seeming pensive.

""A hound it was, an enormous, coal-black hound, but not such a hound as mortal eyes have ever seen."" Ace was staring off in the direction of the baying as he murmured the words. Thatch grabbed his wrist and pulled him away, heading south.

"Stuff it. We've got work to do." Ace laughed and followed Thatch's lead, beginning to run himself.

"Still as allergic as ever, I see."

They ran for a while longer, coming around to a point near the south wall. As expected, the dogs had run after the scent of fresh blood, and none too few of the marines went after them. _They must have been valuable assets, to warrant a reaction like that. _Ten of the twelve guards had gone charging after the hounds, only two remaining at the gate.

Getting over the wall was a simple matter, after that. A grappling hook later and they were crouched on top of the wall, surveying the interior. As Thatch had said, there were less guards inside, but it was still a fairly considerable force.

Two guards were posted at the large main door, which was well lit and very visible. The large parade grounds were patrolled by six men, still in pairs. Another two men patrolled near the main gate of the wall. A final pair patrolled the back of the building, and Ace could see places on the multi-tiered building where lookouts could be posted. They'd have to tread carefully, but they were past the dogs and the majority of the inner wall was bathed in darkness and watery moonlight.

Ace motioned to Thatch that they should stay on the top of the wall for as long as possible. Dark it may be down there, but it was still fairly open, and nobody seemed to ever look up as they patrolled.

They flitted along the wall like wraiths, careful to maintain silence. When the reached the western wall, the one running parallel to the back of the base, they stopped, crouching in the shadows atop the wall.

As expected, two men patrolled the back side of the base. The small door Thatch had mentioned was here, as well as the plethora of windows. They'd be using the windows to get inside. Ace had picked one out that opened into a storage room on the third floor, near a stairwell. That's where they'd be forced to split up, Thatch heading into the basement for the devil fruit, Ace turning down three hallways to get to the rear-admiral.

Ace tapped Thatch, getting his attention. They had a silent exchange, using a kind of modified military sign language to communicate.

"It's the second window from the left." Ace motioned with his right hand, using the other to pull a set of climbing hooks from where they'd been strapped on his back. "Wait until the guard turns to patrol the right side of the building. There's a 40 second window. You go first, I'll meet you inside." Thatch nodded, and having extracted his own climbing hooks, waited for the patrol to round the corner.

As soon as they'd turned the bend, Thatch backed up, surveying the gap. He took a deep breath, loosening his shoulders. It was a pretty wide gap, and they were fairly high up. It'd be hit or miss on this. If he fell it'd be unlikely he'd be standing again until the bones in his ankles and/or legs were sufficiently unshattered, and the gap was wide enough to give him a moment of pause.

Pushing that aside, though, Thatch stepped forward, leading with his left foot. The wall wasn't very wide, only three paces across, so Thatch had to make this moment of propulsion count. In the two steps before he reached the edge he got moving as fast as he could, having so little space for acceleration. His third step landed on the edge of the wall and he launched off it, putting all the force he could into his jump.

The moment of flight passed in hyper-clarity, almost in slow motion. Thatch saw the wall coming at him, saw that he was going to collide about four feet below the window Ace had pointed out, and saw the cracks in between the bricks where the mortar was old, where his climbing hooks would be able to spare him a hefty drop. Thatch raised his arms in preparation for the impact, bracing both to shock-absorb and get the hooks positioned to catch in the wall.

They did their job, latching into the mortar like it was soft. Once he was fastened to the surface, Thatch was able to climb up to the window with the agility of a cat. Perched on the ledge, Thatch took a moment to survey the interior of the room before jumping in. It was dark and empty, and Thatch saw no movement within. Satisfied, he pulled a thin knife from his belt, slipping the blade under the window and using it to open the simple latch inside. Once the latch gave Thatch opened the window and slid inside.

If it had been dark outside, it was pitch black in here. Thatch glanced around, able only to make out the bulky shapes of crates and shelves, but no details. Nothing moved and there was no noise. The room was empty. Of people, anyway.

Thatch, satisfied, turned back to the window, motioning for Ace to follow, simultaneously stating that it was all clear and he was okay. He watched as Ace nodded and turned to look after the patrol. There was still maybe…20 seconds until they came back around. It was Ace's choice whether to wait or go now, but Thatch was confident he could get up the wall before the guards came back. Ace seemed to think so too and backed up, making the same mental and physical preparations Thatch had. Not a moment later he darted forward, launching himself off the wall and at the window ledge.

Ace too fell short, colliding with the wall maybe four and a half feet below the window. Thatch had had a leg up on him in height and arm length, so it was through no fault of Ace's own that he landed a few inches lower. At least…that's what Ace told the competitive side of his brain. Ace pulled out the left climbing hook in order to mount the distance to the window.

_**Crumble**__._

Ace's eyes widened and he froze where he was, not daring to move, not daring to breathe. His eyes shifted slowly to the place where his right climbing hook was embedded in the mortar.

It was falling apart, practically disintegrating.

Ace stared at the failing plaster, trying to shift his weight off it without causing more damage. _Slowly. Slowly. Don't panic._ Bits of mortar were falling off the wall, sliding their support out from under Ace like water. Ace, still moving as slowly and non-provocatively as possible, repositioned his left climbing hook, trying to set it without shifting in such a way as would send him down the same road as humpty dumpty. His heart was pounding in his ears and he could feel the chill of adrenaline sweeping through him. _Almost got it…Almost._ He'd almost reached a place where he could set the hook. _**Crumblecrack**__**crumble**__._ Ace felt his breathing speeding up as he felt the diminishing security of his current handhold. He just had to reach that next crack…

With a desperate, internal scream Ace threw himself upwards, feeling the mortar collapsing under him. For an instant he hung in limbo, unsure of whether he was about to fall or if _someone_ out there was actually watching out for his sorry ass today.

_**Snick**__._

The hook caught in the plaster, Ace's weight dangling on his left arm. If not for the need for silence, Ace would have given a very audible sigh of relief. As it was, his heart was still pounding, but elation and relief were quickly replacing the suspense of the last moment. Ace looked up at Thatch, who'd been watching the whole scene in horror, and grinned. Thatch smiled back, shaking his head.

"You just got _so_ lucky." He motioned. "I thought I was going to have to go down there and save your ass." Ace only grinned back, unable to reply via nonverbal communication. _Whew. That could have ended a lot worse._

_**Crack**_.

_Oh fuck._

Ace had to fight every instinct in him not to shriek when he felt the weightlessness of falling. A shower of plaster rained down on him as his climbing hook dragged through the insecure material. The hook was still in the wall to be sure, the head of it probably 4 inches in, but the mortar here couldn't support his bodyweight and merely continued crumbling beneath him.

He stopped maybe 10 feet lower, still maybe another 18 from the ground.

His breathing and heartbeat were both racing at twice their normal rate and all his senses were on high alert. He heard the patter of the falling bits of plaster as they hit the ground below and had to blink repeatedly to clear the dust from his eyes. He could feel himself shaking lightly with the excess adrenaline and forced himself to try to calm down. He shut his eyes for a moment, trying to get his breathing under control. _It's okay. You're okay. Stop panicking. Everything's oka-_

"Hey, did you hear that?" Ace, for the third time in the last minute, felt his heart freeze in his chest. He saw the dim glow of the marines' lantern beginning to softly paint the stones around and below him with light.

They were coming back.

_Fuck fuck fuck FUCK._ Ace looked around desperately, trying to find some shelter he could take, some way he could avoid detection. _Window._ There was a window just to Ace's right, within reach. He skittered across the wall and over to it, flashing a rushed, "I'm alright" message to Thatch.

The marines were getting closer.

Ace pulled out a knife similar to what Thatch had used to open the window above and jammed it beneath the frame.

_**Step, step, step.**_

_Fuck they're almost here._ Ace wriggled the knife desperately, trying to push the latch. The hinge it was on was rusty, though, and shut tightly.

_**Step, step, step.**_

_Come on come on come on!_ Ace pushed at the latch, silently begging it to open. It budged a little, only to catch again. Ace stabbed at it with the knife, trying to force it past where it was jammed.

It remained stuck. And the marines were here.

They stood about 20 feet down, just a little ways off to Ace's right. Ace pressed against the window, trying to stay in the shadows cast by the niche the window was in. He held his breath, avoiding all movement in order to avoid attracting attention, even closing his eyes so there'd be no chance of them reflecting any light back down at the marines. A knot of tension tighter than a spring curled in his stomach.

"I swear I heard something right over here." They searched the area directly below Ace. Ace heard them shuffling around.

"There's some plaster here."

"Psh. The building's old. You got me all excited for nothing!"

"Plaster doesn't just fall off the walls!" Ace could picture the marine looking up. "Where did it come from?" Ace felt, at that very moment, like he even willed his heart into stillness in his attempt to remain undetected. He felt the man's eyes sweep over him. _Pleasedon'tfindmepleasedon'tfindmepleasedon'tfindm e…_

A heartbeat passed.

Another.

Silence.

"…Whatever. I guess it was nothing." Ace's heart started beating again. _Good thing they screwed over their night vision with all that light. _Ace glanced at the sky. _You really like to jerk me around, don't You?_ The marines had moved off again, and Ace leaned a ways out of the window, just enough to see Thatch doing the same of the window above his. He waved at Thatch, again signaling that he was alright, and set about climbing up.

He was much more careful about inspecting the plaster before setting the hooks this time. It took him longer this way, but there were no more incidents. Ace safely reached the window where Thatch was and slipped inside. Ace, as Thatch had been, was temporarily blinded by the sudden darkness. His eyes adjusted quickly, though, and it wasn't long before he could see. He turned to Thatch, who was regarding him and shaking his head.

"…What?" Ace asked, voice the barest of whispers.

"I don't know whether to call you lucky or unlucky." Thatch replied, equally quiet. "But now that we've had more than enough mishap, I think it's time to get on with things. You still have the smoke bombs, right?" Ace nodded.

"Yeah. I was planning on setting it on his desk and knocking over a candle or something, making it look like some ignition source fell over and lit some papers on fire." Ace said. Thatch seemed to accept this and nodded firmly. He produced a timepiece from his bag and studied it.

"It's 1:48 right now. Can you be back by 2:20?" Thatch asked.

"Sure thing. What about you? Will you really be able to get down, into the safe, and back up here in 32 minutes?" Ace replied.

"Come on. You're talking to the god of breaking-and-entering here." Thatch said, defensive. "I could have that safe opened in three minutes. I just gave us both a generous buffer for any locked doors or patrols that come in our way. I _expect_ you back by 2:05, but I won't come looking for you until 2:23." That seemed a fair estimation to Ace.

"Well then, we better get starte-" Thatch held up a hand and Ace instantly fell silent, listening intently.

Footsteps. Footsteps outside the door.

Footsteps _stopping _outside the door.

Ace and Thatch moved simultaneously, Thatch taking up a place in a dark corner surrounded by boxes and several weirdly shaped, cloth-wrapped items. If someone glanced his way it'd be easy to overlook him, even in mild light, for just another bundle. He was facing out, towards the room, and had a blade drawn, ready to act if he was spotted. Ace, on the other hand, scaled a shelf in a moment before leaping onto the rafters. He padded along one silently, coming to a stop in a dark corner near the door, ready to jump anyone who tried to sound an alarm.

The door opened slowly, golden light from the hallway spilling into the previously dark storage room like blood. For a moment it dazzled Ace and he blinked repeatedly, encouraging his eyes to adjust faster. The figure who had entered, still a silhouette to Ace's adjusting eyes, perused the room briefly, seemingly looking for something. The moment passed intense silence until the figure spoke, voice a quiet whisper.

"Ace? Thatch?" Ace's eyes widened in shock. What. The. Fuck. He glanced at Thatch and saw Thatch was looking at him, equal expression of surprise in his eyes. He looked back at the figure and by now his eyes were well enough adjusted he could make out details. Identifying details. He hadn't been wrong. He did recognize the voice.

Ace swung out of the rafters coming to a soft and silent landing on the floor. He was still behind the figure, and as of yet unnoticed. Ace approached silently, sweeping up behind the not-so-unknown person. Ace clamped a hand over their mouth, simultaneously grabbing one of their arms in such a way that they couldn't throw any kind of blow at him. The figure jumped in surprise.

"Don't scream." Ace's voice was cold. The figure nodded and Ace released him instantly, turning to close the door. Darkness swept to fill the previously lighted area and Ace heard Thatch come out of his hiding place. Ace took a deep breath, trying to cool his already passionate frustration. He turned from the door and back to their visitor.

"What the _fuck_ are you doing here, Teach?" Ace's whisper might have come out a touch harsher than necessary, but he felt it was deserved. Thatch came to stand beside him.

"I-" Teach started. Ace raised a hand and cut him off.

"If you tell me you came to help so help me God I will burn this whole place to the ground." Teach remained silent. Ace swept a hand through his hair in sheer frustration, trying to keep from exploding.

"Fine. How the hell did you get in here?" He said, trying to maintain a reasonable tone.

"…The door?"

"No Teach, I mean into the ba-" Ace's eyes widened. "…You didn't." Teach looked between Thatch and Ace's equal expressions of horror.

"What? Isn't the door how one normally enters a building?" Ace visibly saw Thatch resist the urge to throttle Teach.

"Yes it is, _normally_, however, when one is aiming to avoid detection one generally uses subtler methods, i.e. windows, et cetera." Thatch said coldly, then paused. "…What did you do about the guards?"

"Oh don't worry, they won't be causing any problems." Teach said. "I took care of it." Thatch seemed to give up on being affable about this and turned away, throwing his arms wide, only to come back a moment, later, shaking his head.

"Great! Just fucking great! You come marching in the front door like you own the place encountering the majority of the guards on duty but it's okay. Because you 'took care of it'. Please, please give me some _more_ of this fantastic news! Tell me you left the bodies there. Please. Tell me. I'd so _desperately_ like to hear that you left the bodies there just _waiting_ to be found, just waiting for someone to sound the alarm and put the fruit out of our reach _for the next fucking six months._ Please tell me we're now inside a building that is literally a time-bomb just _waiting_ for somebody to find bodies. Please. I'm so _very excited_ to hear you say it." Thatch's voice was still in a whisper, mindful of the possibility of patrols, but it still contained the biting sarcasm. Thatch looked like he was on the verge of actually hitting Teach, but Ace stepped between them.

"Enough. This doesn't help anything. We'll deal with this properly when we're all at a safer location, alright?" He turned to face Thatch. "This is still doable, we're just going to have to reorganize a little." He turned, facing Teach. "You," He pointed at Thatch. "will be going with him." He turned to face Thatch. "You will get Teach out of the base. Once that's done come back and try to do something about the bodies, okay? I'm going to stay here and finish the mission. Thatch: don't kill Teach. Teach: just…don't fuck anything up. Listen to Thatch, he knows what he's talking about." Ace pulled out a timepiece. "It's 1:55 right now. If I'm not out by 2:30, I want Teach to go and get the boat ready for a hasty departure and I want Thatch to come back inside and make sure I haven't been captured. Am I understood?" Both nodded. Ace rarely employed it, but they could recognize the no-nonsense voice he used when giving orders. He was technically of higher rank than Thatch, so even if Thatch didn't 100% agree with what Ace had instructed, he was obliged in this case to comply. "Good. Get moving." They nodded again and set off, Thatch leading the way to a different door than the one Teach had come in by.

Ace watched them leave and waited a few moments for pure silence to resume before approaching the door that'd be his first step towards both the fruit and the rear-admiral. Before exiting, though, he pulled into his mind the carefully memorized layout of this floor and the four below it.

_As of right now I'm closer to the rear-admiral, but I can't set off the smoke bomb until after I have the fruit. _Ace traced a line on the map, one that led down the service stair this storage room was right near into the basement. _The fruit is kept here -_ he circled the correct location on his mental map - _in a safe. Whether it's a combination or key safe doesn't matter. After that –_ he traced a line up a different stairwell at the opposite end of the base – _up the stairs, two lefts, straight, right, left straight, room 507. _The line ran down the according hallways to the selected room, which he again circled. _Set the smoke bombs and light the fuse. _He traced a line back out of the room and down the remainder of the hallway to a window. _Get away free and clear._ Ace nodded to himself, rechecking the route. _That'll work._

Ace waited another instant by the door, listening to assure there was nobody in the hallway beyond. All was dead silent, just as Ace hoped. He opened the door a tiny sliver, just enough to peek out into the corridor beyond.

As expected it was straight, lined with doors, and generally like every other corridor in the world. Unfortunately this meant it was clear of debris and there weren't many available hiding places. Ace glanced up, seeing if by some chance the ceiling might have rafters he could travel along. This was, unfortunately, not the case and Ace was left with one option: walk right down the middle of an open, well lit space lined with doors that may open on enemies at any given moment. Joy.

"I always get the shittiest jobs." Ace mumbled to himself. His eyes were mostly adjusted to the light of the hallway and he pushed the door slowly open. "Honestly, all this tension is going to give me a heart attack one day."

Ace slid out from behind the door and began half-running down the hallway. It was the fasted he could manage without making an indiscreet amount of noise, and the soft leather boots he was currently wearing deadened what little sound there was.

The hallways passed in a blur and it wasn't long before Ace had wound down their lengths, down the stairs, and across the basement to the room that the devil fruit was in. Here he had to pause to pick a lock which was simple work, a matter of maybe ten seconds, and he was in the room.

The safe had proven more difficult. It did turn out to be a combination safe, but after nearly five minutes of his ear pressed against it listening to the dull ticking as he worked with the mechanism he was in. He'd grabbed the fruit and slipped it in his bag. There was something else, though. Something he was sure he was forgetting. When he realized his mistake Ace nearly smacked his head against the table out of sheer frustration.

He'd forgotten to get the fake Devil Fruit from Thatch.

Ace pulled out his timepiece and glanced at it. 2:09. He had 21 minutes left. That wasn't enough time to find Thatch and get down here with the fruit, get back up, kill the rear-admiral, place the smoke bomb and make a neat escape. _Damn._ Ace glanced at the safe. _Well…_ He studied the inside of the door before selecting a knife. He was able to use the blade as a screwdriver and then a pry bar and removed the back of the door. This done, he set about ruining the lock mechanism, removing the place where the tumblers came into contact with the dial mechanism. Satisfied, he slid the plate back on, reaffixed the screws, and closed the door, listening to the lock that would never open again click home. They could probably get through it another way, but it'd take them a while to realize the safe was broken, even longer to get the tools to open it. By then Ace hoped to be well out at sea with this little mess behind him.

Content with the havoc to ensue, Ace left the little room, careful to lock the door behind him again. Then it was up the second set of stairs, down a near labyrinth of hallways, and he was finally nearing the door to the rear-admiral.

Ace approached this corner as he did every other. He pressed his back to the wall and peered down it in the direction he intended to go, taking a moment to listen intently for footsteps or voices. Moving through all these open corridors left Ace's nerves on constant alert and he'd nearly died of heart failure twice when mice had darted across his path. All the same, he had yet to meet any people. Thatch had been right, most if not all of the patrolling was outside.

Assured that nobody was present or coming, Ace turned the corner, passing maybe halfway down this corridor with the previous haste he'd passed through all the others. He didn't like lingering in these open spaces. Not when in a building where ever person in it wants to kill you.

Ace found the right door, and, as expected it was locked. Ace set to picking this lock as well, working hard to keep the inevitable sounds as faint as possible. When it finally clicked home, Ace waited another moment to see if anyone stirred within. Nobody did, and Ace slowly opened the door just a tiny sliver, just enough to look inside.

It was much darker in the chamber than in the hallway, and Ace's eyes were forced to adjust to the darkness. Once they did, Ace saw everything he expected to see. Plain furniture. Bed. Desk in one corner. The marines could really be as frugal as nuns. Ace pushed the door open slowly, mindful of the slightly aged hinges.

He moved the door at such a pace that the light would enter gradually, not sudden enough to wake a person. The hinges were cooperating as well, only giving the faintest of squeaks when Ace first pushed the door. Ace padded silently inside, quiet as the angel of death himself. He drew up next to the bed, withdrawing the poisoned needle from his bag.

Oh. Fuck.

Tonight was just really, really, _really_ not Ace's night.

The marine wasn't there. The bed was empty, the sheets cold, obviously having been unoccupied for at least 7 minutes. A stream of profanity ran non-stop through Ace's mind. What the hell was he supposed to do now? He had no _idea_ where the officer would be. He was supposed to be sleeping, right here, just _waiting_ for Ace to come get him. Why wasn't he here?!

Oh right. Because someone upstairs liked to jerk him around.

"Fuck. _Fuck._" Ace backed away from the bed, safely stowing the poison back in his bag. He hesitated a moment, unsure if he should set and light the smoke bombs. He had no way of finding the rear-admiral now. He'd have to come back another night. Ace didn't like this situation and Eve could damn well wait another 24 hours. _I should set them, but not here._ Ace nodded to himself and withdrew from the room, shutting and locking the door behind him. He began jogging down the hallway, trying to locate a good position for the incendiaries. He passed a window and did a double-take, stopping in his tracks.

_Well fuck. Everything is just _so_ going my way tonight. I should really buy a lottery ticket._

He could see Thatch and Teach down in the yard. They were currently moving along one of the walls, heading towards the southeast corner.

They seemed blissfully unaware of the group of marines closing in on them from behind.

"Nonononononononononononononono…Come on, Thatch, turn around! They're right behind you! Are you freaking DEAF?" Ace's voice, for all that it conveyed the tension and suspense of the moment, was still in the confines of a whisper. The pair seemed to finally notice their pursuit, speeding up considerably. All the same, they were still in a big, rectangular pen, nowhere to really run as Ace could see the front gate, the _only_ gate, had been put on lockdown.

And then Ace saw the patrol approaching them from the left.

As of yet, the second patrol was still hidden from their view, obscured by the base itself, but Ace could see it coming, could see his friends running headlong into a trap. They were going to be cornered in minutes.

"God _damn_ it!" Ace resisted the urge to pound his fists against the glass in sheer frustration, there wasn't time for that. He needed to make a distraction. They'd already spotted Thatch and Teach, so it'd have to be something _big_. Ace ran a hand through his hair, trying to come up with something, anything. No way would smoke bombs be enough now. Ace could try _actually_ setting the place on fire, but the building was made of a lot of stone and not much else, not the most flammable stuff to work with. Ace was sure he could get it going given time, but that was exactly what he didn't have. He needed something the marines were afraid of, something that would get them off the offense and onto the defense. Ace snapped his fingers in realization, eyes flying back open.

_Got it._

Ace practically flew down the hallways and stairs. He didn't know exactly where he was going, only that it was somewhere on the main floor, near one of the walls. Ace stopped by door after door, listening intently for the sound he needed to hear on the other side. He finally came to a stop near the door he was looking for, double doors, actually, and stopped, panting. He hurriedly picked the lock, moving inside without waiting to check for inhabitants.

Pungent didn't even begin to describe how the kennels smelled. Ace stepped inside, nearly overpowered by the stink of dog and urine. The kennel was fairly dark, but it was still bright enough for Ace to clearly make out the veritable pack of dogs contained in the cage that occupied maybe two thirds of the large room. The dogs were agitated by his presence, pacing back and forth, snarling at him. When he approached, a few actually leapt and snapped at him. Ace looked around, searching for the other feature of the room that he prayed would be there.

Ace's eyes caught on the second door in the room and he walked over to it, opening it just enough to glimpse what lay beyond. He heaved a breath of relief. Something was actually going his way.

Cool night air flowed in through the partially open door, and Ace threw it wide, letting in moonlight and wind. The dogs seemed to perk up, intrigued and excited by the outside air and temperature. When Ace approached the cage again, though, they resumed their former snarling and pacing.

"Damn. They really breed you fierce, don't they?" Ace surveyed the locking mechanism on the door. It was simple enough, only designed to keep the dogs in, not people out. Ace still had the problem of how to get to it without getting his hand bitten off, though. His mouth twitched. He still didn't really like dogs.

After considering it for another moment, Ace took the easiest solution.

The fire that was inherently part of him responded to him instantly, wrapping around his hand. Ace willed the temperature higher, higher, higher, until the flames glowed almost white. The dogs, upon seeing and smelling fire, instinctively shrunk back, staying well away. Ace slowly lowered his glowing hand, tracing his pointer finger along the locking mechanism. It melted like butter beneath his touch and not a moment later he was through. He released his hold on the fire, letting it seep back into his skin. The dogs didn't hesitate a moment, throwing themselves at the door, knocking Ace back with the force of their assault on it. Ace, taken by surprise as he was, was thrown back against the wall by the door which slammed open. The dogs paid him no mind, opting instead to charge out into the night. There was one that was obviously the leader, an old, grizzled male with more scars than fur, half-starved and with roving, wild eyes. He passed the door first. He reached the moonlight first.

It was him that first raised his voice in an eerie, unnatural howl.

Ace felt his heart stop in his chest as he watched, but the dog didn't even turn back to look at him. A moment later he was off pounding into the night, leading his pack. Ace stared after him in shock for a moment.

…_And now you know where gytrash come from._

* * *

The pursuit hadn't lasted long. Thatch had intended for them to get to the wall, throw a hook, and climb out before the marines got there, but a second group had been ready to head them off. They'd been forced to a halt at the intersection of the south and east walls, and now stood staring at said wall, the light of the marines' lights shining full on them. Thatch was biding his time, trying to avoid turning around. If they saw his face they'd know who he was and then the whole mission would be practically botched.

"Thatch, what do we do?" Teach's voice was quiet, barely audible even to Thatch, who stood right beside him.

"Relax. Don't let them see your face for as long as you can. Stay calm." Thatch replied, equally quiet. Teach snorted.

"Yeah that's great advice. I'm sure _that_'ll get me out of an execution."

"It will if you wait for Ace to figure something out."

Among all the assembled marines behind them, Thatch heard one moving. _He must be the officer. The one in control._ The marines had formed a solid semi-ring around them, pinning them against the wall with a line of solid rifles pointed at them. They really did need help, there was just no way to get out of this on their own. Everything was at a standstill now except for that officer, who seemed to be getting closer.

"Turn around, scum." He said, voice harsh and cold.

"Or what?" Thatch replied. "You gonna kill me?" Teach was looking at him like he was crazy but still followed his lead, keeping his back to the marines. The officer snorted.

"No. I was thinking of shooting you in the knee, though. You're an awfully fast runner, it'd be a real hassle to have to catch you again. Now, do I have to ask in a less than polite way or will you turn around and let me see your faces?" _Damn it._ Thatch could _not_ afford to get shot in the leg. He began turning, going as slow as he could, attempting to hide his identity for as long as possible. "Faster. I don't have all ni-"

Howling.

Fierce, wild howling.

…_Ace, this is _not_ what I had in mind when I wanted you to save our asses._ Thatch could hear unrest among the marines, but the officer fought for control, insisting they maintain their formations.

That all went to hell in a bloody gurgle when a dog bit his face off.

The marines panicked, running, firing randomly, doing everything and anything to avoid being on the receiving end of the snapping, bone-breaking jaws. The dogs, though, seemed almost ethereal. It was one in every fifteen shots that actually seemed to land, and when they did they rarely did more than injure. Thatch spun around, sheer reflex making him duck before a dog bit his throat, and drew a pair of short-swords. He wasn't half as good at them as with his long-swords, but there was just no way to bring long-swords on a mission like this. And he was still very skilled with short-swords; he was just a virtuoso with his real blades.

The marine officer the dogs had attacked first lay on the ground in an expanding pool of blood. He wasn't breathing anymore.

"Hey! Check and see if you can't find that guy's name on any of his stuff!" Thatch shouted over the din, swiping at another dog that leapt for him. While Teach was searching the marine, Thatch kept him covered, taking out the near-feral dogs whenever they had the audacity to attack. Eventually they seemed to at least grow wary of Thatch's swords, but as of yet he'd only succeeded in killing two. He'd grazed others, leaving light injuries, but they always managed to twist away before he could do real damage.

They seemed to be getting smarter and with less marines to go after they began working in pairs, then trios, and on. Thatch was slowly but surely getting pushed back, far more often on the defensive than offensive. "Come on, Teach, I can't keep this up forever!" He swung at another dog, only to miss as it dodged away, it's partner's jaws snapping shut less than an inch away from Thatch's hastily withdrawn arm.

"Got it! His name's James Conan White. Says he's a rear-admiral." _Well at least that's _one_ objective done._ The dogs shrieked and jumped back when a line of fire cut through their midst. They extinguished a few moments later, leaving an open path between the dogs.

Ace was waving at them from maybe 40 feet away.

"Come one, guys! Let's go!" Thatch instantly took off down the temporary path, knowing it wouldn't be long before the dogs were back snapping at his heels. They soon caught up with Ace, who turned and led the way to the main gate. The dogs, as predicted, were soon back on their tail, but a few well-timed bursts of flame had them at bay.

The marines formerly guarding the gate had been called into the group that had cornered Thatch and Teach, and as such all were dead or deeply injured and left well behind after the dogs attacked. Thatch and Ace slammed into it nearly simultaneously, their bodyweight and momentum propelling the doors open. Ace tossed one last fireball over their shoulder before racing out the door.

The gate didn't swing shut behind them, and Ace knew they wouldn't have time to push it closed before the dogs got there, so he turned to his two companions.

"Split up. Head into the woods. Lose your tail, the dogs'll give up if you sit up in a tree for a while. Meet back at the house by dawn. Please don't get eaten." Thatch and Teach nodded and Ace broke off, heading what he guessed to be north. He heard the panting and baying of the dogs on his tail, yet he felt a wild exhilaration as he ran through the trees, moonlit green blurring past him. He couldn't help the laugh that erupted out of his chest, filling the night air along with the dogs' throaty barking.

Ace didn't know how long he ran, didn't know how far he went, but he felt _good._ The night air bit his lungs with cold and he recognized his growing fatigue, but his heart was pounding in his ears and he didn't want to stop.

His legs and lungs burned, though, and when he found an old oak he didn't hesitate to scramble up it like a squirrel. He sat on a bough nearly gasping for breath, looking down at the dogs surrounding the tree. They jumped and snapped at their prey, but Ace was well out of their reach. Eventually they seemed to give up, to grow bored. They trotted off into the woods, searching for easier game.

All except one.

The leader, the gytrash, remained behind. He sat at the base of Ace's tree, staring up while Ace stared down. Silence passed. His eyes seemed to burn into Ace's very soul, seemed to see, to know everything about him. Ace, on the contrary, could see nothing in the eyes of the scarred dog below. Eventually, having either seen all there was to see or found something he liked or disliked, the gytrash stood, turned, and padded off. The mist seemed to close around him, embrace him like he really was the mythical spirit.

He didn't look back.

Ace waited in the tree for another half an hour or so, just to be sure the dogs were really gone. Satisfied that they'd abandoned him, Ace slid down from the tree and back to the forest floor, taking a deep breath of the crispy fall air. He looked around, smiling. He felt good. Really good. Alive. There was just one slight problem, only a minor annoyance, really.

…Where was he again?

* * *

(A/N: And that's a (temporary) wrap. Please tell me it was enjoyable? I really did try…

Fun fact: A gytrash is a spirit found in northern British folklore. It takes the form of a spectral, starved dog or horse and misleads and/or kills travelers. Just so you all know, the dog wasn't actually a gytrash, Ace was just referring to it that way because it seemed surreal to him. Comprende? If you like you can look up a gytrash on google images. There are some pretty cool interpretations out there!

BONUS QUESTION: Okay, so at the beginning of the chapter Ace asks Thatch three questions about classic literature. What are their answers? Leave your reply in a review~!

BONUS QUESTION 2: When Ace first hears the dogs baying he says, "A hound it was, an enormous, coal-black hound, but not such a hound as mortal eyes have ever seen." What is this a quote from? Again, leave your answer in a review!

I'd love to hear your feedback, opinions, and/or suggestions, so please, PLEASE review. I know this chapter was way overdue and that's all my fault (and school's), but please, you'd make me really, _really_ happy if you dropped me a note. :) See you next chapter.

~Stuff'nStuff)


	4. Chapter 4

(A/N: Hello! This update was even slower! Hope you didn't ditch the story because of my tardiness. ^u^; In my defense I had finals, and the week after that was my sister's High School graduation, so we had a bunch of family over that I had to entertain and spend time with, then we had her party, then I had to go to a birthday party the next night, so I obviously wasn't writing then…in any case, yeah. Blah. It's late, and I'm sorry.

Know what else I'm sorry about? My EPIC FAILURE to respond to the reviews! SO SORRY GUYS! As I said, I've been busy, and it was either use the time now (1:37 AM to be exact) to write the chapter or to respond to reviews. I thought you'd prefer the chapter, so I worked on this instead. I'll try to do a better job of review response this time, I promise!

**Anonymous Reviews**:

Guest (Shishiochan): Thank you! I most certainly will! Oh really? I was actually unaware of that! Interesting to know, but it's a little late now, so I guess that's just kind of…disregarded at this point. ^u^; Sorry. But for the benefit of the plot Thatch had to listen to Ace, and I thought he would disagree, so I kinda needed to boot him out the door and that was the easiest feasible way I could do it. I will certainly try to add more depth to him. As of yet he hasn't played as central of a role as Thatch and Ace, so we've gotten less of his dialogue and none of his perspective (we probably won't be getting much of his perspective as he is the main antagonist of the story), but I'll certainly try to give him more vibrancy. Well…what should he have done? Teach may be a creeper, but he's still part of the crew, it's not like Thatch could just murder him or anything, and wouldn't you be pissed if your best friend was being stalked by someone, someone who your friend was helping? I'd be pissed. Especially if said friend was in a happy, steady relationship with another of my friends. I'd be really pissed. But if you have a suggestion for a way I can edit it to possibly make it better, I'm all ears. Just be aware I might not necessarily use your idea. (Hahaha yeah…it was pretty badass, but you've gotta admit it was dumb.) I'm going to get around to explaining that in this chapter, actually. You'll find out in the dialogue if you pay attention. I will vaguely mention at one point why the dogs were such a struggle, but it won't be until one of the later chapters. That is worrying, isn't it? I'm surprised you were the first one to pick up on that. And the fact that Teach doesn't know there's a fake fruit at all. That would be really unfortunate, wouldn't it? Hahaha hooray for dichotomies! Yeah, me too. …I can't decide how to incorporate Marco during this section of the plot. He's going to be in it a lot more later, but I can't decide if I can or should incorporate him more now…it just seems like it'd be a little out of place and somewhat unimportant, and thus hard to come up with something meaningful to include in his parts…but we'll see. Well, not necessarily religious. I mean, yes, he made some religious references in the last chapter, but I don't picture him as the go-to-church-every-Sunday kind of guy. If anything…he's probably agnostic leaning towards mildly religious, not necessarily believing in a Christian God, but just in some greater consciousness in the universe in general. You're welcome. I know the update was horribly slow, so please excuse my tardiness!

Ohboyitsdrsexy: Thanks! I'm glad you enjoyed them! :) Imagine Dragons certainly is a great band. My sister took me to the concert for my birthday. :D Isn't it SUCH a good song?! I'm absolutely in love with it. Hahahaha you are now my friend, congratulations. XD I do not in fact have a tumblr, because if I did I would get even LESS done than I already do. Seriously, the internet is already distracting enough. If I had a tumblr…I'd probably never see sunlight again. XD

Mafa: Thanks! I'm glad you like them! C: Imagine Dragons is epic. Hahaha good job, you are now my friend. Congrats. XD Thanks!

Cheshire9996: Aw, thank you! I'm glad you like it! YES! MARCOXACE OTP FTW! Thank you, I'll certainly do my best!

Guest (no signature): I'm glad you liked it! :) Yes, it might have been a little bit of a cheese overload, but if I didn't vent that stuff all out in one go it would have just continually popped up throughout the story and ruined pretty much the whole emotional tone…so yeah. They had to be spewed at the beginning. XD Isn't it just? I wish I could be in a relationship like that. *forever alone* I'm glad it's not painfully OOC, to be honest! I really did my best to keep him…well, like Ace. Glad you enjoyed, and I hope you're still reading!

**Side note**: In this chapter, Ace is going to reference Tarot Cards. I looked up and wrote a document that's a simple analysis of each card's meaning, and I'm going to post said document on my profile. Feel like possibly getting a hint of what's to come? Look at the cards' meanings and maybe you'll be able to figure something out. ;) They're also going to be a…well, kind of a theme, and they'll either foreshadow events to come or Ace (or possibly someone else) will have a reaction to them that has to do with recent events in the story. It won't be _terribly_ important, but again provides some interesting depth if you feel like taking a little extra time. Also: I'm aware that the way Ace reads the Tarot cards may not be accurate at all as far as how you _actually_ read them, but doing a full reading is too complicated.

Alright, after this incongruously long Author's Notes, how about we start the actual chapter?)

* * *

_~And the seasons stop~_

Several hours and a good deal of cursing later, Ace found himself returned to the small house that served as their temporary refuge. The sun was just beginning to come up as he emerged from the trees, probably half a mile from the little abode. A few fading stars still dotted the sky, and gentle peach already began touching the eastern horizon. As he walked, dew wetted his pants and boots, the little drops cool with the dawn air.

As he reached the porch, the door flew open and Thatch rushed out, bundling him into the house. Shutting the door behind them, he spun to face Ace. "Damn it, you scared the hell out of me! Do you know how long I've been waiting here? I thought you'd been captured!" he snapped. "What happened to the whole, 'be back by dawn' plan?" Ace raised his hands placatingly.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I got lost on the way back." Ace said. "It was only after running from the dogs that I realized I had no idea where the heck I was, and then the damn marines were freakin' _combing_ the woods, so I had to dodge them _and_ figure out where I was and how to get back." Thatch still looked less than happy, and Ace clapped him on the shoulder. "I'm _fine,_ Thatch. Nothing happened." Ace glanced out the window at the now fast-rising sun. "But we're going to have to get moving pretty quick now if we want to get out of here before they start patrolling the water." Thatch, after another moment of scowling, turned to look out the window as well, analyzing the rising sun and the distantly stirring town. It would, in all likelihood, be a really close call even if they did leave now. He could see white uniforms already swarming over the navy-designated area of the port.

"It might be better to wait a few days. They're going to be out in force after last night, if we leave now there's a high chance we'll spot us." Thatch said. Ace bit his lip.

"But if we wait any longer the morning fog will burn off and we'll have even less chance. And…I'd really like to leave today." Ace replied. Thatch gave him a questioning look, and Ace sighed, then elaborated. "It's September 30th. If we leave any later…" He trailed off. Thatch blinked at him.

"Oh that's right! We have to get you home!" Thatch looked out the window again, at the rising sun, at the little white dots that were the marines scurrying around the port, and lastly at the forest. He scowled. "If Teach would hurry the hell up-" Ace blanched.

"He's not back yet?! Has he been caught?" he said. Thatch shook his head.

"As far as I can tell based on their movements he hasn't been caught, and no he's not back yet. To be completely honest, I'm a little surprised he hasn't been captured. Never seemed much of the sneaky, subtle type to me." Thatch said. He scowled. "Especially after that stunt he pulled last night." Ace sighed.

"I'm going to talk to him about that." he said. "Just…leave that issue to me, okay? I don't think yelling at him – as I'm sure you'd like to – would really enforce the lesson he needs to learn from this."

"You better explain to him how much he royally _screwed us over_ last night. He needs to understand that even if it's not in the direct orders it should always be a subtext to not-" Thatch cut off abruptly and froze, Ace tensing simultaneously, hearing the same thing.

Footsteps.

Ace met Thatch's eyes and, seeing his expression, nodded. They moved silently, padding over to either side of the door, Ace drawing a short, poisoned blade from its sheath strapped to his ribcage. He crouched beside the door, doused in the shadows of the corner. Whoever was coming in would have lost any semblance of night vision with the rising sun, so Ace, for a few moments at least, would be concealed. That would be enough time to stab the man, and even if the blow wasn't fatal, the poison on the blade made it otherwise. It would constrict the airways almost instantly after entering the bloodstream, so there wouldn't be a chance to scream or attract attention.

Thatch, on the other hand, took up a position on the opposite side of the door, slinking under the range of visibility from the window there. He slowly raised himself, peering subtly over the windowsill, trying to catch a glimpse of the intruder. He visibly relaxed and huffed in annoyance, straightening. Ace, taking this as a cue, relaxed as well, sheathing the knife and rising. Thatch, making an effort to at least not _look_ mad, opened the door.

Teach, after the twitch of surprise as the door opened unexpectedly, stepped through hurriedly at Ace's hasty waving. A marine patrol was emerging from the trees, and while they hadn't spotted Teach yet, if he stood out there any longer they would.

Thatch shut the door behind Teach, and with Teach's back to him, focused a momentary yet murderous glare on the back of his head. Once Teach was safely inside and the door bolted, Ace turned to Thatch.

"How're they doing at the harbor?" he asked. Thatch moved to look out the window, but as soon as he neared it he practically leapt back.

"Shit." he exclaimed in an elevated whisper. "They're searching the houses." Ace's eyes widened.

"Did they see you?" he asked. Thatch shook his head, eyes still focused on the patrol. After another moment, he turned away to look at Ace again.

"You said this house was abandoned before we moved in, right?" Ace nodded assent. Thatch turned back to the window. "…In that case, they probably won't search it. We didn't leave any visible signs of life outside, so it still looks the same as it did when it was abandoned. All the same, if they do come to search it, I'd like to be ready. Is there anywhere in the house we could use as a hiding place?"

"Well, there is the basement." Teach interjected, face serious. Ace blinked, turning to look at him, eyes slightly narrowed.

"I didn't know this place had a basement." Teach nodded.

"Yeah, I found it when you two went into town, before you came back with the floor plan of the base. Looks like it hasn't been used in years. The door was actually under a chair. I don't think even the previous owners knew it was there."

"Show me."

Teach turned away, beckoning. Ace followed him out of the front room and down the hallway, out into the kitchen/dining room. Here, Teach pushed aside the chairs on the left side of the table, even moving the table itself, and flipped back the rug it was sitting on. Beneath it, an almost trap-door style entrance was attached to a pair of recessed hinges. Teach seized the handle and pulled open the door, a flurry of dust accompanying the whuff of stale air that billowed out.

It wasn't as dark inside as Ace had honestly expected when he'd seen the door. It was subterranean, yes, but spaced along the walls were a few tiny hatch-like windows. Morning light poured through them, illuminating the bare, dry space. A few shelves were sprinkled along the walls, but the floor was empty of any furniture whatsoever. The space was dry, the shelves clear but for the layer of fairly thick dust that had settled here and on the stairs that led from the door down to the floor of the basement, near the left wall.

The small windows were angled in such a way as only light could come in, the glass weathered and old but not fragile, and from the dirty sepia they'd been stained over the years, they'd be invisible unless you stepped on one, and you'd only step on one if you were walking less than ten inches away from the edge of the house.

All in all, Ace doubted they'd find a better hiding place.

Ace nodded briskly and shut the door again, pulling the rug and furniture back over it. It'd do. It was better than he'd honestly been expecting. He turned to Teach.

"Start packing up our stuff. We're going to have to camp in there until the patrols move off," he said.

"And you?" Teach asked. Ace merely glanced back. His voice retained the same chilliness it'd had since Teach returned.

"I'm going to make a few surprises for our friends." Teach grinned and nodded, and Ace set off, heading back to the front/living room where the majority of his stuff was. In the door he paused, turning back to look at Teach. His face was even darker now. "You and I are still going to talk about last night, do you understand?" Teach sighed in exasperation.

"We don't have to. Honestly, it's not like it was that big a deal-" Ace's eyes went frosty, his tone harsh.

"Don't. Contradict. Me. You are on a _very_ short leash now. 'Not that big a deal' almost got you and a commander, _my best friend_, killed last night. Now is not the time, but don't think you've gotten out of anything. We _are_ going to discuss this, and there _will_ be repercussions." Ace spun and left, not even glancing back.

* * *

"Alright, I'm going to go over it one more time just to ensure nobody accidentally blows themselves up, okay?" Teach and Thatch nodded, Thatch's assent accompanied with a rolling of eyes, and listened as Ace continued. "There's a tripwire near the front door that, when pulled, will light that candle in the basement. That's our sign that the marines have entered the house. That's the candle on the far left. As the marines continue through the house, there's a few more as they draw nearer to the basement door, and as they do they'll light more candles, all in a line. If _all_ the candles are lit, that means they're in the dining room."

"Alright, we understand the concept of your lightshow. You've only explained it three times now." Thatch said with another eye roll.

"Yes, well, I'm explaining it again." Ace said with annoyance. He resumed after a mini-staring contest with Thatch, tone back to businesslike. "Here's where things start getting dangerous. Strapped to the bottom of the table, and the dining room chairs, is a high explosive encased in a shell. They move that furniture to get the door open? Boom. Like, _serious_ boom. The blast itself is extremely violent, but the radius is small. It's the shrapnel that's going to be deadly.

"The explosive is encased in a ceramic shell that is very fragile. However, when the bomb goes off, the heat and pressure is going to solidify the shards to near steel in resilience. Mixed into the ceramic sediment is seastone dust, so even devil fruit users will be blown away. _These bombs are fragile and live._ As we move into the basement I'm going to be placing the last one, under the chair that's going to be sitting on top of us. If any of the bombs go off it's probably going to blow open the door. That happens? We come out swinging. In all likelihood none of the marines are going to be left standing, injured or killed by wood or ceramic shrapnel. I just want to be ready in case they aren't. In the best case scenario, they'll pass the house by and we can be on our way by nightfall." Ace was still somewhat pissed that they'd have to waste that much time, but the patrols were taking so long that it was a certainty that the marines would have their battleships out before they'd get the chance to sneak away, ergo they had to wait for cover of darkness before slipping by the naval blockade. "Worst case, we either have to camp down there for a few days before they loosen up more or the marines end up setting off the bombs, in which case we're going to have to blow out of here and off this island in a…less subtle way. The best case scenario is infinitely preferable." The two nodded, Thatch looking somewhat bored after this third repetition, but Teach looking more serious after Ace's pseudo-threat earlier. Ace took a breath and continued.

"Assuming the worst-case scenario and the bombs _do_ go off and we do have to blast out of there, I've given each of you two smoke bombs. If you detonate them, don't stay in the smoke long, it's mildly irritating to the eyes and lungs. Long-term exposure can be dangerous. Once you get out of the house, head for the trees. If you have a tail, lose it before you get to the boat. Haste is everything, though, so don't dilly-dally. Once at the boat, assuming you're not the last one there, make every preparation for departure. Once all three of us are there, we'll ship out. I'll be able to punch us a hole in the blockade, but after that it'll be in our best interest to lose any pursuit. Our ship was designed for speed, not combat, and we must use that to our fullest advantage." Ace took a deep breath and visibly relaxed. "For now, we can wait up here. It's only if the patrols start heading this way that we have to hide. Thatch, please keep watch. I need to have a little chat with Teach." Thatch nodded and turned back to the window, not needing to be asked twice to keep an eye on a far-too-close-for-comfort threat.

Ace led Teach away, down the hall and into the study. He gestured to a chair, and Teach sat down. Ace walked to the desk, taking a deep breath as he lowered himself into his own seat. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk, steepling his fingers and leaning his moth against them.

He stared at Teach.

Teach's chair was placed (purposefully) in the near-center of the room, no objects around for him to distract himself with or in any way subtly hide himself behind. After a few moments he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, Ace's cool gaze unsettling. Ace made no visible response. He didn't move. He didn't speak.

He just stared.

After possibly two minutes of perfect silence, Teach finally broke. "Well? What? What are you going to say?" Ace's silence and staring was doing exactly what it was supposed to: unnerving. Ace had to get under Teach's skin if he wanted to make any kind of lasting impression, so it seemed. Kindness hadn't worked and Ace wasn't above manipulating psychology to his advantage when he turned to less friendly methods.

Silence was _much _stronger than words.

Ace didn't deign to reply right away, instead letting Teach stew and sweat under his gaze. His face remained expressionless. Passive. Stony. A marble statue hadn't been stiller. After another fifteen seconds of silence Ace finally spoke.

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes momentarily, before refocusing his gaze on Teach. "Since my words seem to have no value or meaning in your eyes, we're going to try something different." His voice was as cool as his gaze, as cool as his expression, as cool as marble. "_You_ tell me what you did wrong. Since you apparently have no respect for me and the commands I give you and so love your own thought process and actions and you think them so much better than mine, deign to tell me why you think I'm less than happy with your recent performance." Teach swallowed thickly.

"I didn't mean-" Ace raised an eyebrow slowly.

"Oh?" His voice was as expressionless and fluid as before. "Then you were dragged to the base? By whom? We'll have to tell Oyaji it was _his_ fault that there's now quite possibly a war on." Teach openly blanched.

"What?!" Ace closed his eyes and sighed, disappointment painfully evident in the sound even though it didn't cross his statuesque face. His eyes remained closed as he spoke again.

"The reason for subtly, Teach. The reason for stealth. Do you know what it is? Do you know what those words even mean?" As he finished the second question, he reopened his eyes, refocusing his still gaze on Teach. Teach didn't reply, so after another painfully long stretch of silence Ace continued. "They mean peace. They mean anonymity. But now, thanks to your methods, both have quite possibly been irreparably destroyed."

"…How?" Teach barely ventured to ask. He'd never seen Ace – anyone – like this. Cold. Distant. A glacier was more friendly.

"When I released the dogs, I was unable to use normal methods, Teach. I had to use my devil fruit. Nobody without the fruit could have done the same thing undetected, just like nobody else could have burned those swaths of ground when I was covering our escape. Anyone with half a brain can now connect me – in my rescue attempt to save you – to the deaths and theft of the devil fruit, which means they can connect it infallibly to Oyaji." Ace's empty eyes bored into Teach's. He allowed another powerful moment of silence. "You, Marshall D. Teach, have quite possibly started a war between the Whitebeard Pirates and the World Government. Countless lives, many those of your brothers and sisters, are quite probably going to end because of you. Because of what _you've_ done." Ace leaned forward, dead eyes pinning Teach down. "So tell me why, exactly, you think your personal happiness, your personal glory is worth more than that." He stated the question with the same non-inflection as before.

Teach didn't reply.

Ace allowed the silence to stretch for minutes. He rarely blinked, and his gaze never twitched from Teach. Teach, after the first minute had looked away, but still Ace's eyes remained fixed on him. After what Ace deemed an appropriate amount of time, he stood, walking silently past Teach and to the door.

"Exactly."

His word practically echoed in the silence of the room, and he shut the door behind him.

* * *

Early evening found Ace in the bedroom. All through the day they'd kept constant surveillance on the marine patrols, but as Thatch had said, the marines still believed the house to be abandoned. No patrol actually came to the door, and while they'd had a scare when one stopped outside the gate, apparently debating whether to check the house or not, they hadn't needed to retreat to the basement.

Earlier that afternoon, Thatch had taken his place at watch and told him to go get some rest. Ace had tried, but sleep eluded him. He'd dozed lightly for about an hour, but it wasn't restful. Ace's senses were still on edge, like they'd been when he'd walked down those open, lighted hallways in the marine base. It had confused Ace, but he couldn't make it stop.

He couldn't help feeling enemy doors were about to open all around him.

He sighed and shuffled the cards.

Ace wasn't superstitious, and logically he knew they were just cards and could, in no way, predict his future, but it was something of a habit of his to turn to them whenever he felt particularly stressed or unsettled. The methodical motion of shuffling, cutting, and reshuffling the deck was soothing, and once the cards had been laid analyzing possible significance (he knew it was just his own mind trying – and sometimes forcing – some kind of connection between the inked images and his life) was an amusing, ever-changing puzzle, and he enjoyed it.

The deck was new, a gift from Thatch for his last birthday, and while the still-stiff new cards were a little harder to shuffle, the images were unique, different than any other deck Ace had ever had. They were beautiful, inked in vibrant hues with elegant calligraphy labeling each.

The Tarot Cards danced in Ace's hands as he shuffled them again.

...

The sun was sinking fast now, and Thatch knew it was time to get the ball rolling, as far as their departure went. He stood stiffly from his position near the window, stretching and feeling his joints pop. It'd be good to get home. It'd be good to get off this damn island. Watching marines pathetically scurry back and forth in their attempt to find them had been amusing…for about twenty minutes. After that, it hadn't taken long for Thatch to get bored. He still watched dutifully, trading off every two and a half hours or so with Teach or Ace, but it became more and more of a struggle to not get distracted. Now, though, he could afford a bit of a respite.

About ten minutes before, Thatch had watched the last patrol begin straggling back to the base, in need of different supplies if they intended to continue their search by night. They'd need to regroup with their superiors. Thatch was certain now that the rear-admiral had been the highest-ranked man in the base at the time, because the level of organization of the search had been…well, feeble, at best. The rear-admiral hadn't always been in charge, though. This particular base served as a kind of center-of-operations for none other than Kizaru. _He must have swung through here recently and cleaned this place out of everyone competent._ The marine had recently gotten in a tangle with Big Mom and her crew, and the casualties hadn't been light. It made sense that he'd pull resources from his semi-home base after taking a hit like that.

The end result was they were left dealing with the runts of the litter. Not a bad position, and Thatch wouldn't have it any other way.

Thatch walked through the house, heading for the dining room. They'd put all their gear in there in preparation for the possible retreat to the basement in the case of a marine patrol. Thatch grabbed two of the packs off the table, swinging one over his shoulder, and carried them out the back door.

He leaned them against the back porch, and after a second run, the third pack joined them. Thatch headed back inside, wanting to do a sweep of the house to make sure they didn't leave anything behind on their way out.

...

Ace, after finishing the final shuffle, held the cards in his hands for a moment before dealing.

He pulled the three bottommost cards of the deck, laying them facedown in a row. _The past._ Next, he randomly selected three from the middle of the deck. _The present._ Finally, he pulled the top three, laying them facedown as well. _The future._

Ace studied the backs of the cards for a moment. Of all the hobbies to have, even he would admit this one might seem strange to other people. _Marco hadn't questioned it, though. He'd just chuckled and rolled with it. _Ace smiled at the thought. Once, upon his request, Ace had even read Marco's future for him in the cards. Ace knew Marco didn't believe the cards could tell the future, and frankly he didn't really believe so either, but on occasion they had been eerily right. Ace chalked it up to chance and a _desire_ for the cards to have predicted it, i.e. he was making connections where there were none, but these occasional bouts of truth were interesting.

Ace flipped over the three cards representing the past.

_Ten of Cups._

_Nine of Wands._

_Ace of Cups._

Ace smiled at the last one, gently running a finger over the image of the chalice, six flamboyant goldfish swirling nearby, five faeries in attendance. _I certainly hope so…_

_..._

Thatch was fairly certain they'd forgotten nothing in the house. All that was left was getting Ace to disassemble that little work of pyrotechnics he'd performed on the dining room furniture. Ace had been in the bedroom a long time, and Thatch had no doubt he was still sound asleep. Thatch didn't really want to wake him, it was clear after the mission that Ace needed rest, and Thatch thought another fifteen minutes wouldn't do any harm. The sun was still painting the horizon as an open furnace, and they'd have to wait for full dark to head out anyways.

Stepping back outside the building and into the cooling air, Thatch heaved in and released a deep breath. It was crisp, and while he wasn't a huge fan of the cold, the light jacket he had on was enough to keep him comfortable in this amicable fall weather. The stars were beginning to emerge, and Thatch tilted his head back, taking in the barest glimmerings of their nightly birth.

The blow to the back of his head was hard enough that his vision went black for a full second.

He could feel himself falling, crumbling to the ground, and with his stunned, dimmed instinct was able to use this sensation to cling to consciousness. He forced himself to try to struggle to his feet, but instantly a grip like steel clamped on each of his arms, stilling him on his knees.

"Hello Thatch. Scream and you'll never speak again."

...

Ace placed the card back next to its brothers. The smile was still on his face, the card's positive message still echoing in his mind. He turned to the cards that represented the present.

_The World._

_The Moon._

_The Wheel of Fortune._

Ace frowned gently at the cards. Those were a little less than settling.

...

He'd made to scream anyway, despite the threat, but the powerful blow to the solar plexus had left him gasping, all air having quit his lungs at the impact.

They dragged him into the woods, a ways from the house. Out of general hearing range, and definitely out of sight. When he finally got enough air to speak, he didn't hesitate a moment before employing his voice.

"You sneaky, backstabbing, lying son of a bitch!" Another blow, this time a hard punch across the face. He felt his jaw crack and his vision swam with spots.

"You're not in a position to making insults, _taichou_. Now, let's not make this any harder than it has to be. Where's the fruit?" Thatch didn't reply, merely glared up, split lip and bloody nose striping his face with crimson, bruise already forming beneath his eye. "Speak. Or this gets ugly." Thatch spat blood near his feet.

"It already is. I mean, the least you could do is blindfold me. Looking at your face should go under cruel and unusual punishment," he half sneered, half snarled in response. Another blow.

...

Ace ghosted his fingers over the cards of the present, eyebrows gently furrowed. _You know they're practically never right. This isn't surprising._ Ace sighed. _Yeah, but after that reading of the past…I kind hoped they had been this time._

...

Thatch was panting now after a series of vicious kicks to his stomach and torso. Blood now streamed down his face from an undoubtedly broken nose and split lip. He'd bitten his tongue by now as well, and he was sure the amount of blood on his face would be alarming under normal circumstances.

These certainly weren't normal circumstances.

Thatch entirely disregarded the blood on his face, the pain of his jaw, the sharp ache in his chest where he just _knew_ several ribs were _at least_ cracked, and, most of all, the way a tiny part of his mind was begging him to just _give it up already_.

"The fruit, Thatch." Thatch dragged his gaze back up to his betrayer.

"Fuck you, Teach." Thatch panted.

Teach crouched down so he was eye to eye with Thatch. He stared into his face for a moment before, without warning, he lashed out, wrapping his hand around Thatch's throat and squeezing. Thatch felt the loss of his ability to breathe and for a moment, panicked. But no. He wouldn't. He wouldn't succumb to this. His eyes, which, a moment before had been widened in terror, narrowed, focusing back on Teach, bold, defiant, and unbreakable. Thatch stared his death straight in the face.

_If I am going to die I will not die afraid._

_..._

Ace turned, at last, to the cards of the future. He hesitated over them, unsure. The reading of the past had seemed…accurate. Ace wasn't even idealizing. It really had seemed like what his life had been for the last year or so. The reading of the present, though, was substantially less accurate. Ace agreed he had had a streak of bad luck and changes beyond his control, but he couldn't think of anything on as large a scale as the cards were showing. Especially that one. _The Moon…_

_..._

Thatch's body had just fallen limp when Teach released him. He took in a great, raspy gasp, coughing and spluttering, fighting to return air to his suffocating body. If he'd been barely conscious after the blow to his head, there weren't words to describe how far gone he was now. His vision was tunneling, and swimming beyond that. The images his eyes were picking up were blurry and distant, and he could barely hear, much less comprehend, what Teach was saying to whoever was holding him down.

What he did comprehend was Teach turning and starting to head towards the house.

Heading towards Ace.

Thatch fought with all his might for his flagging consciousness. He clung to it as if he were drowning, struggling against the darkness like a thing possessed. He had to warn Ace. Ace was still in there, _asleep_. Ace's sensory Haki was probably good enough to pick up on Teach, but he was so acclimated to his presence that it wouldn't be enough to wake him up. Thatch had to warn him. Get him out of there.

His throat burned after its recent experience, but Thatch dragged the air over it, forcing more into his lungs, forcing his mind to come back online, his body to start working again. Teach was getting closer, already he was fading into the trees and Thatch knew it wouldn't be long beyond that when he reached the house.

In a flash Thatch's control returned to him.

He took in a great heaving gulp of air, not unlike the previous ones, but this time unmarred by coughing. His bruised throat protested at what he planned to do, but _hell_ if he'd just leave Ace to that traitor.

...

Ace flipped over the cards of the future, careful to not look until he'd flipped all three. The reading of the present was still bugging him, and he was still preoccupied by it, not really paying attention yet to these cards. His gaze wandered over them, but with his mind so distant he didn't even really register what they were.

"ACE, RUN!"

Ace's eyes snapped wide, surge of surprise flashing through him. Thatch. Shout. Ace.

Run.

An electric jolt of adrenaline shot through his body, freezing this moment like a still frame in his mind. In an instant Ace was up, across the room, had flung open the window, and was halfway through it. As he passed through the opening into the cool night air, bounding and running faster than a spooked deer, he heard the door slam open, followed by footsteps.

The unidentified footsteps attempted to pursue, but a cheetah would have had difficulty catching Ace in that moment. He dashed through the trees, heedless of direction, heedless of time, heedless of anything but that primary instinct. _Escape._

Because Thatch had sounded terrified, and Thatch was never afraid.

...

Three cards sat on a table, unheeded. They had come from the top of a deck that had been shuffled seven times in an attempt to get the stiffness out of them and their brethren. Cards that, supposedly, told the future.

_Ace of Swords._

_Eight of Wands._

_Death._

* * *

(A/N: Sorry the chapter's a bit shorter than usual...I hope you still enjoyed it anyway!

And thus we're into the next stage of the plot. This is really the first stage, the rest being kind of...set up. But it was necessary for you to get all the background before we got around to this bit.

Just so everyone knows, from here on out is where the rating is going to start _actually_ being 'M', so...yeah. Be prepared.

Want to be the most awesome person ever? You know you do. It's quite simple: drop a review!

But seriously, it really, _really_ helps me out to hear what you guys think, and I'd especially love hearing your analysis of the Tarot cards and any predictions you have for the plot! Seriously guys, go for it! I want to hear what you guys think is coming. I promise to respond this time!

C:

As ever, I LOVE YOU ALL! I'll see you next time!

Stuff'nStuff)


	5. Chapter 5

(Welcome back, all! I deeply apologize for the slow update. At least this time I was better at getting back to all of you on your reviews (I don't think I missed anyone this time…=.=). Anyways, glad to have you all back for another chapter, and I hope you enjoy!

**Anonymous Reviews**

Shishiochan (who should really get an account so we can talk. Because this is now going to be the longest Author's Notes ever.): Glad you liked it! :D Yes, summer vacation is nice! Unfortunately for me, I have to take physics over the summer, so I have much less writing time than I originally anticipated. Thanks! Ace is very good at pyrotechnics/chemistry. Yeah…it is rather unfortunate. It was a clever idea. Yup, Teach finally made his move. Eh, I kinda liked it. :) And it's not like he does it obsessively, just when he has a bit of spare time he doesn't know what to do with. Well, Sengoku might not, but it would still cause conflict with Kizaru at least, and it would give the Government an excuse to send the Navy after the Whitebeard Pirates. Either short-term or long-term, it would have caused some kind of conflict, which would have lead to loss of life. So it would have been better to avoid detection. Yeah…fighting 3 of the yonkou probably isn't on the marine's to-do list, but they can't exactly just sit there after one of their bases was attacked by Whitebeard commanders. Hahaha Teach might not have seemed subtle here, but he's had far more intelligence than any of the characters have attributed him up until this point. Well…in this case, Thatch was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. If Ace had been the one packing up their stuff, he would've been the one that got jumped. Ace is trying very hard. This is a _very_ high-tension mission (or was, before Teach screwed it all up), and _he_ was put in charge of that. He wants to prove that wasn't a mistake. Well, that and I at least think he probably matured somewhere in the last 10 years. ^u^ Yeah! Go Thatch for saving Ace! Poor guy, though. I'm so mean to him. :( And yes. Even in the face of pain and death, our dear Thatch is still as snarky and salty as ever! Good! Death is a card of change, BIG change. The end of something old and the introduction of something new. Doesn't necessarily imply an actual death. Hahaha it took a good deal of time, but I'm satisfied with the result, so it's all worth it, in my eyes. :) Well, he had no way of knowing what was going on. Marco could indeed make for some good tension release…if I had any idea how to write humor. XC Well, that'd be nice too. …Well, you make a point, but you have to remember he's _not_ part of the operation. From the very beginning he was supposed to remain outside the base. He was in…pirate time-out if you will. And a tank isn't what they needed. They needed subtlety and stealth. I'll be getting more into him in the next chapters. He's been seen in an unfavorable light due to this being mainly from Ace's perspective, but I think I'm actually going to include a few segments from his perspective, if not necessarily in this chapter. He's also slated to have a good deal more dialogue, so hopefully you'll find him more intriguing of an antagonist in the future. Well…I already have the whole plot figured out. It's just a matter of flushing it out into dialogue, scenes, and chapters. As I said before: Teach'll get a bit more depth as the story continues. Hopefully this issue'll be cleared up as the story progresses. :) I'm probably going to need to reference it in order to accurately get Blackbeard's crew. I know…well, not much about them. Hahaha that'd be nice, yes. As I said, it'll really only be a small note in a MUCH later chapter, but you should be able to discern why they're so tough based on it. (That'd suck for them, but it's not what I have in mind.) Hahaha it's okay, but you should seriously consider getting an account so we don't get another author's note that's over 700 words. ^u^;

******WARNING: this chapter contains MILD VIOLENCE and BRIEF LANGUAGE**

* * *

_~And hide beneath the ground~_

By the time Ace stopped, night had entirely settled over the island. He leaned heavily against a tree, breath puffing out in front of him in a hot cloud. It was cold tonight. Above, the stars glimmered coldly, distant, remote, and frigid. Shards of glass waiting to rain down and slice the island to tatters.

He waited for his breath to return to normal, for the ache to leave his muscles. The bark dug into his back through his shirt, but it was comfortingly solid in a world of uncertainty. Thatch had said to run and Ace had, but he had one question.

_Why?_

What had happened? What was wrong? Ace didn't know. He'd heard someone come into the house as he made his exit, but he hadn't seen them or turned to look as he fled.

Ace took a deep breath. He needed to know what was going on, but before even that, he needed to take a moment to reorganize his adrenaline-frazzled mind. He allowed his eyes to close and took a moment to let his mind refamiliarize itself with every piece of the body it controlled. He slid his conscious down each limb, though each nerve, assessing his current physical condition. His left arm first, down to the last fingertip. Then the right. Both were in good, working order. His torso. His lungs still burned lightly, and his heart thudded dully, but both sensations were fading as his breathing normalized. Left leg. Right. Both were aching from the exertion he'd subjected them to, but still in working order. Already the pain was fading.

All being well physically, Ace turned to his mind. His senses were still on high alert after the surprise and his flight, but beneath that was a growing problem. He was getting tired. Fatigue led to negligence, and negligence, in a situation with as many unknowns as this one, led to death. He hadn't slept since before the mission, now almost 24 hours before. He was in trouble in this department, but there was very little chance of him getting a decent amount of rest any time soon.

Ace opened his eyes after this self-examination, feeling calmer. He was himself, and he was in good, working condition. Whatever this situation was, he could deal with it. Now it was time to assess something else.

Ace was still wearing the mottled grays and blacks of the night before, The loose shirt and pants would keep him disguised at night, but come morning their current colors would stand out against the brown-greens of the forest. That wasn't a problem as of yet, and he'd only deal with it when it actually became a problem. He had too much on his plate to worry about it just yet. Unfortunately, he'd removed most of the gear he'd been wearing for the mission besides the clothes, so he was left with very little in the way of equipment.

He had three knives, though.

One was the dagger kept nearly constantly at his waist. Lightweight, quick, keen. The curved blade and handle wasn't made for throwing, but in hand-to-hand combat, nothing could compare in speed. Strapped to the underside of his left arm was a thin, flat blade. It was good for stabbing and slashing, and the thinness of the blade was perfect for slipping between ribs or vertebrae. It was best employed in stealth attacks that left someone dead before combat, the blade too thin to take any heavy hits without breaking. The final knife was a slender, smooth one concealed in his boot. It was sturdy enough to be serviceable in combat, but was too short for it to be preferable. It was a solution in a worst-case scenario.

Ace took a deep breath. This was workable. It might not be preferable by any stretch of the imagination, but it was workable. He was armed and, while it was still dark, disguised. Of course he'd rather have access to all of his weapons, chemical materials, and other equipment, but he was, with these knives and his devil fruit, still lethal.

Now all that was left was to figure out what the hell was going on.

He needed to find Thatch. He didn't know if Thatch was in trouble or not, but either way, he knew what was going on. Either he needed help, or Ace could use his help. _Yes, but that's assuming he's still ali- Don't. Don't you dare._ Ace wasn't going to accept the worst case until he was forced to, not even in his own mind. He _would_ find Thatch.

Ace turned back towards the house and began the trek back.

* * *

By the time he made it back to the house the moon was high in the sky. As he drew nearer he grew increasingly wary, instinctively feeling the need to escape this place. Wary of encountering anyone as he drew near the tree line, Ace swung up high into the branches of an oak, letting the mottled moonlight spatter over his mottled grey clothes and blend him into the leafy darkness. From his vantage point he could see the house without being seen, as well as the surrounding forest floor. For a few silent moments, all seemed still.

Approaching footsteps turned Ace's attention to his left.

He heard them before he saw them. What sounded like 4 sets of footsteps, approaching steadily, if not all that quickly. And…something else. Like they were dragging something. But who were they? Ace didn't know, but he was going to find out.

Ace's eyes fell softly shut and his breath fell into a slow, constant rhythm. Slowly, slow enough so as not to be detected, Ace extended his perception.

He'd always been…mediocre at sensory Haki, but Marco had been teaching him how to better employ it, and even if he was a shitty student, Marco was a great teacher. He'd gotten better over the last few months. Marco had taught him to extend his range of perception as well as how to pick up on others' presences without them detecting his own. He fought for the calm discipline Marco taught him to strive for. He needed to focus.

Slowly, painfully slowly with the noise of the approaching group, Ace allowed himself to become aware of his surroundings, and to embrace them. The tree he was sitting in wasn't a tree. It was an extension of hi spine, of his body. He was part of this forest. This forest was him. They were synonymous and inseparable. He was still, eternal, alive. He was wood, leaf, shadow, light, the raccoon under that bush, all of it, and all of it was him. There was no Ace. There was only forest.

Ace felt his own presence fade into the furthest corner of his mind.

Now, smothered as his consciousness was in shades of tree and shadow, Ace reached out towards the approaching group. Ace, at his best, could perceive someone within a 150-foot radius. Cloaked, that distance was halved. He actually _felt_ it when the group stepped into his field of perception. He'd been wrong. There weren't 4. There were 6. The "thing" they were dragging was human and alive. The other formerly undetected person must just have been damn sneaky. Even as they continually drew nearer, Ace still couldn't hear their footsteps. Ace, careful to keep his consciousness cloaked, slowly opened his eyes. They were close enough to see now.

The dappled shadows cloaked everything but their general outlines until they reached the edge of the trees. Ace could see they were all men. Two were thin and tall, lanky. One, equally tall, though wrapped in such a voluminous coat that Ace couldn't discern anything else about his shape, was riding a wheezing, unhealthy-looking horse. The two others walking were both large, both in height and girth, one with almost comically large arms. The final person, the one they hauled behind them, was tied to the back of the horse and allowed to drag over the ground, into trees, rocks, and branches, seemingly paid no mind by the group. It was cruel, and from the barely-conscious state of the person's mind, Ace could tell they were in pain.

As they drew closer still, seemingly going to pass within 10 feet of the tree Ace was in, Ace began to hear snippets of their conversation.

"…gotten far. He hasn't left the island, that much is for certain." Ace thought it might have been one of the lanky men speaking, but couldn't be sure.

"We don't need him. We've already got one, why bother for the second?" This voice was gruff, low and callous. All in all, Ace doubted the owner was particularly intelligent.

"But we-" The voice cut off, interrupted by a horrific coughing fit. _Tuberculosis?_ It sounded like the guy was practically hacking up a lung. _Sounds serious. _"we're still capable of getting him. And we should if we can. If he goes crying to daddy too early we-" more coughing. "we'd be in a more difficult position than I'd like."

"Doc Q is right. We've waited too long for this to waste our chance now. We're capable of bagging him, so why don't we? It can't do any harm, and it's not like the marines'll refuse two heads on a platter. But I don't think we should be heading back so early. If we don't find him soon, he's going to leave the island." The other lanky man. Whichever one hadn't spoken before.

"No. He won't." Ace's eyes widened. _What? Is that…Teach?_ "Believe me, leaving hasn't even crossed his mind yet. So long as we have a certain choice bit of leverage, Ace isn't going anywhere." Ace continued to stare at the source of the voice, one of the heavier men, in shock. _…What the hell's going _on? _They're talking about – looking for—me, and Teach is with them. I…didn't recognize any of the other voices. Who are they? What's their affiliation with Teach? What did that one mean about the marines?_

They passed into the light and Ace understood.

The man being dragged by the horse was Thatch.

His face was bloody, sporting an obviously broken nose, bruises coloring his cheekbones and jaw. Ace could even trace the shape of a hand around his throat like he'd been strangled. Ace stared at him in shock and horror. He wanted to jump down there, he wanted to help his friend, he wanted to- to- to _something!_ And why, why was Teach just _standin-_

Traitor.

He's a traitor.

Teach betrayed them.

Ace felt a swelling rage filling his torso. How _dare_ that man claim to be part of Whitebeard's crew? How _dare_ he have taken Whitebeard's mark? How _dare_ he have posed as Ace's friend, Ace's brother? _How dare he hurt Ace's best friend?!_ Ace fought to control his breathing and keep his presence cloaked.

Thatch, being dragged by the horse, gave a tiny groan of pain as the horse clipped him with one of its hooves as it stepped over a rock. Instantly one of the lanky men spun and kicked him viciously in the torso. A snapping sound ensued.

"What did we tell you about keeping _quiet?!_" He snarled at Ace's bruised and hurting friend. Ace nearly flew down from the tree in that moment, almost burned down the whole island in furious outrage. But for just an instant, as he watched Thatch roll away from the man, Thatch caught his eye. And in that instant, he gave a tiny, minute shake of his head. Ace stared at him with wide eyes.

Thatch had known he was there all along.

_Why doesn't he ask for help? I can, I want to help him! Why doesn't he want me to? _A thought occurred to Ace. ..._Something's changed. Thatch wouldn't hesitate to ask for my help. Not unless I literally _could not_ help._

…_It's a trap._

_It's a trap and they're using my best friend as bait._

Ace felt such a surge of hate and repulsion. These men, this vile group Teach was a part of, they disgusted Ace. Mutineers. Traitors. False friends. Cowards and cheaters and liars. Everything Ace hated about humanity all surmised in five men.

The lanky man spat on Thatch, and Ace felt a second surge of outrage and fury. Oh _hell_ these bastards were going to _die._

Ace would make sure of it.

The group continued towards the house, not stopping until they were near the back porch, the side of the house facing the woods. One of the lanky men, the one with the monocle, untied the rope binding Thatch to the horse. After a moment's stillness, he approached Thatch, who lay still on the dirt. He seized a fistful of his hair and dragged his head up, looking him in the face. He assessed Thatch with cold indifference for a moment. A slow, cold smile came to his face.

"This is really what a Whitebeard Division Commander is like? _Pathetic_." He threw Thatch to the ground, aiming so that his freshly broken ribs hit the protruding steps of the porch. Thatch gave an involuntary yell of pain and Ace felt everything in him surge to jump down there. But again he thought of Thatch's look. Of the determination, the surety he'd seen in his eyes. Thatch didn't want him going down there. Ace didn't know entirely why, but he had to trust his best friend's judgment. Ace fought to remain still, calm, focused. He couldn't reveal himself. Ace closed his eyes for a moment, refocusing himself. He opened his eyes again, feeling his heart break all over again, seeing Thatch bruised and bleeding on the ground, the four men around him laughing.

...

…Four.

The click of a pistol being cocked froze Ace's heart in his chest.

* * *

(A/N: YEAH. THAT'S HOW YOU WRITE A CLIFFHANGER, PEOPLE!

Sorry this chapter's so short! But I hope you enjoyed it anyways…? I know it's really, really short, but it's 1:24 in the morning, and I need to get some sleep! It was either publish this or make you wait another week. So yeah. Short chapter is short. But hopefully the next'll be longer.

Sooooo…yeah. Hope you enjoyed. Please drop a review, it'll really help me get going on the next chapter! Also, I'd like to hear if you think I'm writing any of the Blackbeard Pirates painfully OOC. I really don't know. I briefly skimmed their wikis, but I hate them all so much it was practically physically sickening for me. So yeah. If I'm getting something way way wrong, let me know and I'll try to fix it in the next chapter! Thanks guys!

Stuff'nStuff)


	6. Chapter 6

(Welcome back guys! Sorry for the bit of a break! Life's busy right now…so yeah. But here's the update! Sorry I didn't reply to a few of the reviews! I just didn't really have time…so…sorry. :( But I hope you like the chapter!

**WARNING: this chapter contains Violence and Language**)

* * *

_~When the sky turns grey~_

Ace stared, wide-eyed, down the barrel of the pistol currently pointed at his chest. The man holding it was Top-hat, one of the tall lanky guys. The sneaky one. Which explained how he was able to climb the tree without Ace noticing. Ace looked into his eyes and knew, knew _instantly_, that he was going to shoot. Which meant Ace had, like, 2 seconds. Tops.

_Shit shit shit shit! What do I do? WhatdoIdo?!_ The tree was pretty damn tall, high enough that the fall would do some pretty serious damage if he tossed himself out of the tree. He could use his devil fruit to spare himself the harsh landing, but this guy…Ace instinctively knew he was good. That he'd killed people before. He'd be expecting Ace to jump out of the tree. _Shit shit shit._

Normally, Ace wouldn't even bother trying to dodge the bullet. Bullets didn't hurt him, after all. But these guys had been able to get the drop on Thatch. Ace didn't doubt that they'd be smart enough to bring along seastone ammunition and/or weapons. Which meant taking the hit wasn't an option. _Damn it. Damn it ALL._

Ace could just light on fire in the middle of this tree, but the guy'd still have time to pull the trigger before he died, and Ace would end up taking the hit anyway. Ace was pretty much stuck- a thought flashed through Ace's mind. His eyes focused on Top-hat again. _No. No. It won't work. Even if- Shithisfinger'stighteningthegun'sabouttogooff- FUCK!_

The idea had been crazy. But it was his only option. Ace launched himself at Top-hat. Even on the ground, accurately tackling someone is hard when sleep-deprived, but Ace had, somehow, aimed perfectly, and his shoulder collided with Top-hat's mid-torso. The gun went off harmlessly, the force of Ace's leap knocking his arms aside and aim astray. And then they were falling.

Ace had his arms wrapped around Top-hat's middle, and the force of his jump plus their center of gravity kept Top-hat under Ace. He'd act as a cushion, when they landed. They were only in the air for an instant, taking what could be a deadly fall, and yet, Ace only had one thought running through is mind.

_Marco would _kill_ me for this._

When they hit the ground, Ace felt and heard at _least_ two of top-hat's ribs break. Along with probably his left shoulder blade. Or both. But he was still conscious and Ace wasn't about to let him get off that easily, so when they were still, Ace didn't hesitate to reach out, grab a rock, and smack that motherfucker as hard as he could.

The rock cut his head, blood quickly staining the ground around them, and Ace hit him with enough force to at least dent his skull, if not outright shatter it. If the man wasn't dead, he'd be seriously concussed, and the forced unconsciousness could become a coma. Ace didn't care. He shot to his feet instantly, ready to fight or flee as the situation called for it.

The other pirates had seemingly been aware of the confrontation in the tree, but apparently hadn't expected this outcome. Ace had the element of surprise, and he was more than willing to use it to his advantage. He raced out of the trees, heading, seemingly, straight for the group. They, as expected, braced for an attack, but Ace darted aside, turning instead to the still packed-and-waiting backpacks. He easily recognized his own and slung it on, fluidly drawing a throwing knife and a smoke bomb from it simultaneously.

Teach and his group were reacting now, ready for the offense. _Well, let's change that, now shall we?_ Ace thought. He threw the smoke bomb to the ground with enough force to shatter the clay casing, and thick grey smoke erupted in a low plume. It stung the eyes, causing instinctive blinking, and reduced visibility to the single digits. Well…it did if you weren't wearing some kind of goggles or eye protection.

Ace, of course, was. He wasn't stupid enough to detonate something without the proper response all ready to go. The goggles may have looked a little silly, but they did their job. With this backpack and the shit he kept in there on a regular basis, Ace could take over a small country. As it was, he was more than prepared to take on a crew of mutineers.

The goggles, with their lenses _designed_ to cut through smoke, granted him near full visibility. He didn't hesitate to launch the throwing knife at Big-arm's chest, and it was no surprise when the buffoon took it in the left shoulder. The blade was drugged. A powerful sedative, enough to take down a moose for six hours in four minutes. In a human? Well, judging by his size, it'd be about 30 seconds before Big-arms collapsed, but he wouldn't be up for another 10 hours, at least. Big-arms was howling in pain. Oh yeah. That shit's pretty damn acidic too.

Ace pulled a series of bombs from the pocket on the bag (he'd made sure it'd be somewhere he could reach during combat), and took aim at Teach.

Before he could throw it, however, the clay casing shattered in his hand, the report of a gunshot not an instant later. The fluid within the shell spattered out, spraying across the ground. Ace turned and saw Monocle was the one who'd shot. Ace hadn't been expecting him to have moved in the smoke. When people lose visibility, they tend to stay in one spot, for 'safety's sake'. Ace hadn't moved simply because he didn't think he needed to, but apparently that wasn't quite true. Monocle had aimed right where he'd been standing before setting off the smoke bomb, and if Ace hadn't turned to throw the knife at Big-arms, he'd have a bullet in him right now. Well. Two could play at his game.

Ace took careful aim, watching Monocle. He threw the bomb far to his left, the shattering clay releasing another splatter of liquid. Monocle instantly spun in that direction, listening intently. _Gotcha, bitch._ Ace slunk carefully to the right, moving absolutely silently. Big arms was on a rampage, charging randomly through the smoke, spewing profanity and challenges. The noise covered what little sound Ace himself made as he threw another bomb, this time more to the right.

At the shattering sound, Monocle jumped and spun again, looking about wildly. The next Ace threw landed right at his feet, splattering him with the contents as well. Instantly he shot in the direction the bomb had come from, missing Ace by a hair. For the first time Monocle raised his voice.

"Scared to actually fight us, Portgas? That the reason for this little show?" he sneered. Ace crept around, sidestepping as Big-arms charged through the smoke again. _Don't rise to the bait. He hears your voice he shoots you._ "Pathetic. And I see what you're doing, using the sounds of your smoke bombs to distract me. If Burgess weren't being so fucking loud I'd have shot you by now." Ace tossed another bomb, making sure its trajectory wouldn't be visible to Monocle. He could do without getting shot. Monocle didn't even turn this time. Ace drew a throwing knife silently. This bastard was too clever to keep alive until the end.

Ace took careful aim. He had one shot at this. If he missed, Monocle would trace the trajectory back to him and be able to shoot him. So this one had to work. He could see Monocle clearly, could see the spot, just above his left eye, that he wanted to hit. He raised his arm, knife ready-

It was sheer dumb luck that he was caught by the pole of the scythe rather than the blade. As it was, all the air was driven from his lungs and he felt himself sailing through the air, only coming to a stop when he collided with a tree. He didn't let himself shift to fire to avoid either blow, however, as that would have revealed his location to the others. Ace clung to consciousness and forced himself to rise again to his feet. He was on the very outskirts of the smoke cloud now, and a steady breeze was already blowing it away. He let it. It was time, everything was ready. Ace allowed a victorious smile to come to his face.

The moon shone large and full on the scene. The last wisps of smoke floated away, and it looked almost like a scene from a book, two opposing factions facing off, one against daunting odds. Big-arm (Burgess?) was on the ground. It seemed the sedative had taken effect. The others still stood, facing Ace. Ace wiped blood from his chin and smiled at them challengingly. Monocle moved to take a step forward, but Ace cut him off.

"Don't move." His voice was harsh, commanding. It gave Monocle pause. After a moment, Teach laughed.

"And what gives you the authority to give orders here?" he asked. Ace smirked at him.

"The mixture of gasoline, isopropyl alcohol, and paint thinner you all are currently standing in." Horse-guy's eyes widened. _Ah. He's the smartest, then._ "For those of you who aren't versed in chemistry and pyrotechnics, I'll elaborate. It's one of the most flammable mixtures in the whole damn world, and it's had _plenty_ of time to generate vapor." Ace raised his hand. "I snap my fingers and you all die. I have to admit, it is tempting."

"But you won't. Because if you were going to you would have done it already." Teach said. He seemed perfectly relaxed, perfectly confident in what he'd just said. Ace froze for a moment. Teach continued smugly, "And I know why you can't, too. Dear Thatch is still in the blast radius, isn't he?"

Ace grit his teeth. Damn Teach. Damn him for knowing Ace so well. Thatch was currently bound to the porch, gagged and mostly unconscious. Blood dripped from his face. Teach took a step forward and Ace's attention instantly snapped back to him.

"I _said_ don't move!" …If they started coming at him again, would he have any choice in detonating the liquid? But Thatch… Teach stopped, but was still smiling smugly.

"Alright." He raised his hands placatingly. "I'll admit, currently you've got us pinned. But not for long, Ace." Ace clenched his teeth. _Damn it. Why did I teach him about flammables?_ "The flammability range of this liquid can't be endless. All we have to do is wait until it exceeds that range. So either blow us, and Thatch, up now, or get ready to lose." Teach grinned at him victoriously. "Tick tock, Ace. Tick tock." _Shit. God fucking damn it. He's right. This will only be flammable for another minute or so. _Ace's eyes flicked over Teach, his crew, Thatch…_ If I blow it up, there's no way Thatch will survive. If I don't blow it up, Teach and his crew are coming after me. …I can probably handle a few of them at a time, but not all at once. _His eyes landed on Thatch. Thatch was staring back at him, eyes set, determined. _Do it_. His eyes said. _**Do it**_. Ace stared desperately into his eyes, trying to absorb some of Thatch's resolve. _**DO IT.**_ Ace could tell Thatch would have been shouting it if not for the gag. His best friend. Gagged, bound, bloodied. In pain. The one who'd first welcomed him aboard the Moby Dick, the one who laughed, drank, sang, and dreamed with him. Ace broke and looked away. _I can't. I can't do it. I'm sorry._

"Damn you forever." He said. Teach continued grinning.

"Well alright then. Since we've reached an understanding, why don't you tell me where the devil fruit is?" Ace's eyes snapped up to Teach.

"And why in hell would I do that?" he asked. Teach drew a lighter from his pocket.

"Because you just named your price." he said, smiling. Ace stared at him for a moment.

"…You're one suicidal bastard." He murmured. Teach's smirk widened.

"I do hope that wasn't a 'no' I just heard." Ace exhaled.

"Fuck you." He said, eyes burning defiantly. He slung the backpack off his shoulder, placing it gently on the ground and opening it. There, right on top, wrapped in cloth were the devil…fruits?

_Two?! But…where-_ The fake. The fake Eve had given them. One of them wasn't real. That was the one he had to give Teach. Ace had a tiny problem though. The two were identical. Perfectly. In every way. Eve would have made sure. Ace's eyes flicked between the two. How in _hell_ was he supposed to know which was which? He had a 50-50 chance of getting this right or horribly wrong. So did he just take the chance? Ace's eyes flicked between the two.

Thatch was left handed. He would have carried the more important one in his left hand out of instinct, right? Or would he have carried it in his right, that his more dexterous hand could open doors and stuff without him needing to put it down? His gaze shifted from left to right. This wasn't helping. Shit. Teach would be getting impatient right about-

"Ace, I don't think this should be taking this long."

-now. Ace was running out of time and he had no idea what to do. His eyes caught on Thatch, only letting his gaze rest there a moment. Teach couldn't suspect that he and Thatch were communicating. Thatch was staring right back at him, and in that instant where Ace looked at him, his eye gave the barest of twitches.

His right eye.

Ace instantly reached for the fruit on the right, withdrawing it from the backpack. Teach's eyes snapped on it hungrily. Ace spoke.

"And now that I have something that you want, why don't we have ourselves a trade?" Ace turned the fruit absently in his hand. "My and Thatch's lives and freedom for this. And the promise that we, and all of Whitebeard's crew, won't come after you." Ace spoke evenly. Teach laughed again. When his eyes refocused on Ace his gaze was dark.

"Oh no. The best you can hope to buy with my devil fruit is a 30 second head start."

* * *

(A/N: Howdja like it? Was it acceptable, even if short? I apologize for the recent chapter length…life keeps cutting my writing time. :( I hope you enjoyed it anyways.

I don't really have anything to say down here…so…yeah. Hope you have a nice weekend, and I'll see you all next time! Please review! Pretty please?

-Stuff'nStuff)


	7. Chapter 7

(Hey again! I'm back! So…yeah. Not much to say. Oh yeah, I didn't have time to write PM replies to all the reviews, so I'm posting the responses here, okay?

Son Goshen: Hahahaha I'm glad the suspense is that intense! Well…he's Teach. If he were anything else, he'd be OOC. Sorry for the delay in update!

Senteur Canelle: Hahaha and so you shall! …Eventually. C: I'll do my best!

Azab: Yeah me too. But sadly he's needed alive for the story. XP

DinieLuvYunho: Well…you'll have to see. ;) Teach is a real bastard, I'm with you on that one. Hahahaha well, I'm sure Marco was constantly on his case about being so reckless. XD And yes, they are adorable. C: Well…we'll see. He's not going to be in this chapter, but we'll get a scene or two with him fairly soon.

Ujvari: Hahaha good to hear from you! *hugs back* You're welcome! Aw, thanks! That was one of the things I was worried about, so I'm glad it came out legible. :) Oh I despise the f*ckers. But I'm glad they're IC. I know, right? I thought you'd like that moment, based on our prior conversations. c: Oh yes, fake fruit is definitely useful. Hahaha sorry for the wait. It's true, you do have two very valid points there.

Anjelle: Thank you! Yeah…well, it certainly is useful! :D Aw, thanks! Yes, for all that it was a shorter chapter, it did progress the plot, so I'd call it a success. C: You're welcome! Sorry for the delay!

Squishy: Thanks so much! :'D I'm sorry for the delayed update, but I _will_ be continuing this story and it _will_ eventually see conclusion. Hahaha

Alrighty. Again, my apologies for not responding in PMs and for the late update.

**OH BTWS! **In this chapter I reference a story called Kill the Rabbit by Mountain97. Why? Because it's one of my favorites. C:

**STRONG WARNING: this chapter contains VIOLENCE, LANGUAGE, and INDIRECT SEXUAL REFERENCE.**)

_~And everything is screaming~_

30 seconds. That wasn't a lot of time. But it was better than two seconds, which was what Ace calculated he had if they rushed him. He could still put up a good fight, but versus all of them? And unable to use his devil fruit? He didn't like those odds. He hoped Teach didn't know exactly how cornered he had Ace right now. Ace had next to no options. In 30 seconds, he and Thatch could put enough trees between them and Teach that bullets would be ineffective, and he knew Thatch could run damn fast. They could get to the ship, if they really bolted. But…there was still the issue of the ship not being ready to sail as soon as they got there. They'd have to pull up or cut off the anchor, ready the sails, not to mention turning the damn thing around. The ship wasn't equipped with a cannon, either, so once they got there they wouldn't have any kind of technological advantage. But still…

30 seconds with Thatch was better than two by himself.

Ace swallowed and took a deep breath. He still didn't really like this, but it was the lesser of two evils.

"Alright. Untie Thatch so we can get going and I'll give you the fruit." Teach raised an eyebrow.

"Who said anything about letting Thatch go with you?" Ace blinked. _Shit he does know how much of an advantage he has._ "I said I'd give _you_ a thirty second head start." Ace grit his teeth. _30 seconds is better than two. You can get away, lose them in the woods, loop back and see if you can get Thatch. Or something. _Ace snorted. _Yeah. "Or something." That's helpful._ _But it's better than getting caught now._

He tossed the fruit to Teach.

Before it even touched his hands, Ace had turned the other way and vanished into the trees.

* * *

As the adrenaline of combat faded, Ace's fatigue returned two-fold. He was in trouble. Big. Trouble. He needed to rest before he made some kind of stupid mistake or otherwise screwed himself over. But where could he go, that Teach and his crew wouldn't find him?

With the 30 second head start, Ace had been able to lose them in the trees, but he had nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide. And he _needed_ somewhere to hide, for a few hours at least, so he could get some rest. Ace stumbled again and swore. This was bad. He had enough trouble not falling asleep on _good_ days. It'd be a miracle if he didn't faceplant and get his idiot, narcoleptic self captured within the hour.

He needed help.

And, with Thatch incapacitated, there was only one person Ace could turn to.

* * *

Ace knocked on the door again, casting a glance over his shoulder. Sneaking into the city hadn't been easy with the marines still searching for them, but thus far Ace had remained undetected. At least by the marines. He could only hope the same held true of Teach and his crew. If they knew he was here…

The door opened to the face of a familiar, blonde woman. Patricia. She blinked at him in surprise, then looked behind him hurriedly.

"Shit. What the hell are you doing here?" she hissed. She opened the door more, dragging him inside. "Did the marines see you coming here?" She closed the door behind him, bolting it. Ace stumbled at her pull, and she looked a little more apologetic. "You're not hurt, are you?" Ace straightened, waving her off.

"No. I'm not hurt. But I need help."

"Jesus. Do you _know_ what time it is?" Ace blinked, looking at her again. She was in a nightgown, her hair up in a messy bun, no makeup or perfume to be found. She'd been asleep. "I swear to God, if you woke up Eve… She had enough on her plate without you and your damned mission. It took me an hour to convince her to come to bed." Ace blinked, eyebrows rising in surprise. Patricia seemed to realize what she said and instantly went prickly, defensive. "What? You got a problem?" Ace raised his hands.

"Hey, I'm no hypocrite." It was Patricia's turn to look surprised. She glanced him up and down, seemingly reassessing him.

"…Oh." Ace pulled a tired smile. He was practically asleep where he stood.

"Listen…the mission was a success, but something went wrong and I need a place to stay, just to rest for a few hours. Do you have an open room, even just a _floor_ I could sleep on?" Patricia regarded him warily.

"…Are you hiding from someone?" Ace sighed. She was perceptive.

"Yes."

"What will they do if they discover us hiding you?"

"I'd tell them I broke in and you didn't know I was here."

"Would they believe you?" Ace was silent and Patricia's face was grim. She sighed.

"…Listen, I'm really sor-"

"You can stay in the cellar." Both Patricia's and Ace's heads snapped to the source of the voice. Eve. She, too, was dressed for sleep, wrapped in a robe. Her hair was sleep-tousled and her eyes tired, but she smiled softly.

"I don't think it's a good idea-" Patricia started, Eve looked at her almost sharply.

"Well I do." Her eyes softened, and her gaze turned to Ace. "Can't you see? He has someone he's trying to get home to." Patricia still looked on the fence, and Eve turned her gaze to her. "I know you're worried. But Ace isn't the type to ask for help unless he really needed it. He's too damn proud for that. So he really needs us, and he deserves to see his significant other again, don't you agree?" Patricia hesitated, conflict in her eyes. "What if it was me? What if I was on some distant island asking for help, fighting to get home to you? What if someone refused to give that help?" Patricia's shoulder's slumped, the fight leaving her eyes.

"…I'd travel halfway 'round the world just to kick their ass." Ace, seeing the two, felt heavy with homesickness. He missed Marco fiercely. But all the same, he smiled at them.

"You two are really something special."

The cellar, as it turned out, wasn't your ordinary basement.

The door was hidden under Eve's desk in her office, a hidden switch needing to be flipped to open the door. The wood of it blended perfectly with that of the surrounding boards, and the seam between floor and door was undetectable. Ace doubted even _he_ could have found it.

Eve, being bound to one floor by her wheelchair, couldn't actually go down with them, so Patricia led the way. Within, the chamber was surprisingly cozy. Wood floor, simple table, and a bed in one corner. A small window, no doubt disguised, led outside, venting in fresh air. Patricia placed the candleholder on the table and turned to reascend. She looked back over her shoulder at him.

"I'll come wake you in a few hours, okay? I expect you'll want to get out of here before noon?" Ace nodded. She moved again to leave, and he grabbed her wrist.

"Listen…I know you're not altogether happy I'm here, and I don't blame you for that. I just wanted to really, honestly tell you how grateful I am that you let me stay anyway. Thank you." Ace said the words calmly, face serious. Patricia met his eyes vacantly for a moment, then a slow smile came to her face.

"You're welcome." She said warmly. She turned away, voice dropping back to snippy sarcasm. "Now get some sleep, asshole."

Patricia, as promised, woke him several hours later. Ace couldn't remember the last time he slept so deeply, and woke feeling unbelievably better. He sat up and stretched, feeling how the fatigue had dissipated from his limbs. Patricia watched him stoically from her place beside the table, where she absently set out a simple breakfast. Fruit. Bread. Tea. It was a plain meal, but to Ace it currently looked like a feast. He sat down at the table, reaching for an apple.

Patricia let him eat in efficient silence, but once he sat back to enjoy the tea at a more relaxed pace, she spoke.

"So what's it like, being a uke?" Ace spewed his tea across the table, embarrassed blush turning his face bright red to the very tips of his ears.

"What the _fuck_ kind of question is that?!" he choked. Patricia laughed at him, at his tomato red face, at his expression.

"So I take it you're a virgin, then?" Ace blinked, and the expression of embarrassment dropped from his face, replaced by almost…bitterness.

"…That's subject to debate," he said quietly. A look of confusion came to Patricia's face.

"What does that mean?" Ace turned his back to her, walking to the window for a breath of fresh air. He was silent for a moment.

"…Do you know what happened to Eve? How, exactly, she got put into that wheelchair?" His voice was serious. Patricia looked at him in concern.

"Yes…I was one of the girls that found her…" she said carefully. Ace's eyes closed softly as he tried to fight back memories. He took a deep breath.

"…Eve…wasn't his first victim." Patricia's brows furrowed. _Is he implying…?_ "There's a reason I was so willing to take out a contract on his life." Ace rubbed at his hands, at the spot in the center of his palms where a knife had been driven through them years ago. Patricia remained silent, and Ace took it as a cue to continue. "He was serving under the command of a certain nightmare named Edward Hare. I was a prisoner aboard the ship. 10 years old. Hare, for his own sick amusement, was trying to break me, and so one night he came to my cell, 11 men in tow. Including James White." Ace swallowed, his hands clenching into fists. "…You can guess what happens next." Patricia was stunned into silence. After a pause, Ace continued.

"…It makes me sick. Him breaking Eve's leg like that…Hare broke my legs so I couldn't run away either. It's like White was some kind of perverse copycat. And believe me, the world doesn't need another Edward Hare." Ace's face pulled into a snarl. "White deserved the death he got and worse. The world is better off without him." A long silence passed, then Patricia spoke again.

"…Does Marco know?" Ace wondered how Patricia could possibly know the exact nature of his and Marco's relationship, and his confusion showed on his face. Patricia elaborated. "Eve told me." …That still didn't explain how _Eve_ knew, but Ace let it drop.

"Yes. He knows." A sad chuckle escaped him. "…I don't know if he's being nice or is just that naïve, but Marco…he says it doesn't count. Says I'm still a virgin." Ace looked down, old pain in his eyes. "I find it hard to believe him, most days."

Silence followed, Patricia wanting to comfort Ace but not knowing how to go about it, Ace lost in bad memories.

Tap, tap.

Eve's foot against the door. Shutting it. Locking them in. It could only be opened from the outside.

Ace and Patricia's heads snapped up to the ceiling, the origin of the tapping. Patricia swore under her breath and Ace looked at her in confusion, picking up on her quietude and not speaking. She looked at him, but did not audibly speak.

"There's someone here." She mouthed. Ace's eyes widened and he looked back up at the ceiling. Patricia tapped his arm, attracting his attention again. "We'll probably be able to hear what they say, if we stay quiet." Ace nodded and listened, tuning his ears for any sound. It was muffled at first, but eventually he was able to make out what was being said.

"…was here." Ace's eyes widened. Teach.

"Portgas D. Ace? The pirate? What would he be doing here? I was under the impression he was aboard the Moby Dick. Isn't that generally where the Commanders stay?" Eve's voice. She was doing perfect, her voice the perfect amount of confusion and disbelief. Footsteps marched across the floor, towards Eve. A resounding slap followed, loud enough that the blow itself must have had a great deal of force. Patricia surged towards the stairs, towards the door, meaning to batter it down if she had to, but Ace grabbed her, wrapping one arm around her waist and the other clamping over her mouth. She writhed in her grip, but he held her tightly against him.

"_Listen_ to me!" He whispered in her ear. "If you attract attention now and they find me down here? Eve's going to be in a much, _much_ tighter spot. Trust her. She can deal with this." Patricia subsided slowly, the logic of Ace's words sinking in. He didn't let go, though. He knew exactly how much self-restraint he'd have in Patricia's position, and if he didn't trust himself not to go up those stairs under the same circumstances, no way was he trusting someone else not to.

"Don't lie to me, _bitch_. I already know about how he got those floorplans from you." Another set of footsteps followed, quicker, more like a jog. They stopped at the door to Eve's office.

"He's not here- Oh. Hello, pretty." Monocle. Ace recognized his voice.

"You were saying?" Teach said, sounding bored.

"We searched the building. Ace isn't here, and we didn't find any trace of him." Teach sighed in annoyance.

"Very well. I guess we're done here." Teach said.

"Can I have the whore?" Ace and Patricia both stiffened. A short pause followed.

"…I see no reason why not." Teach said, sounding morbidly amused. Footsteps, Teach's, moved away from Eve and towards the door. "Just be back to the house in two hours." Teach left. Footsteps again, leading from Monocle towards Eve. They were slower, measured. He drew up next to her, and a moment of silence followed.

"Don't _touch_ me." Eve said, voice deadly cold. Patricia flinched in Ace's grip, and Ace's eyes widened.

"Oh? And why not?" His voice was still cool, unperturbed.

"Because I don't bat for that team, dickhead." Eve snided. Another slap.

"You're a whore. You 'bat' for whoever pays." Monocle snarled. A short silence, then Monocle yelped in pain. "Ah, mother_fucker!_" Another slap, and this time Eve cried out. "You bite me again, and I blow your fucking head off!" Patricia was quivering in Ace's grip, and Ace swore he could almost hear her thoughts. _Let me go please she needs me I can't just sit here and let this happen please let go!_ But he couldn't. They'd kill Patricia, or worse, take her too. Eve wouldn't want that. Not to mention the fact that they couldn't get through the door.

"Get the hell away from me, you creep! Let go! _Let go!_" There were the sounds of a struggle from upstairs, then of something heavy hitting the floor. Eve cried out, and Ace knew it had been her. Ace swallowed thickly. Eve couldn't run. Couldn't escape. Couldn't effectively retaliate. She was helpless, powerless. A fresh warmth touched his hand and he realized Patricia was crying. She struggled against his grip again, writhing and squirming, her desperation apparent. But Ace wouldn't let go. Because Eve wouldn't want her up there right now. Wouldn't want her to see this. Wouldn't want her to die.

Ace did his best to block the next minutes from his mind, his heart feeling like lead.

It was finally, finally over. Patricia had gone limp against Ace, sobbing, tears flowing down her face, down his hand. Ace heard Monocle standing, leaving, heading for the door. But then he stopped. About five feet away from Eve he paused, turning back to face her.

"Please." It was Eve's voice. Quiet, tearful, broken. "_Please._" And then a sound that froze Ace's heart.

A gunshot, muffled by a silencer.

Patricia heard the sound and, in a moment of unbelievable strength, wrenched out of Ace's grip, flying up the stairs. She flung herself against the wood, her momentum breaking the latch on the door and her collarbone, but she didn't care. Tears stained her face, and upon seeing the room, a wretched cry tore out of her throat.

Eve lay on the floor, dress askew, tears staining her face, trailing from her still-open eyes, spot of crimson, like a rose, on her forehead.

She was dead.

Patricia stared at her in incomprehension for a moment, shock momentarily freezing her mind. But then it caught up.

And her heart split in two.

Rage, uncontrollable, uncontainable fury surged in her soul, and she turned to the sniper, to his curious, bored face. "You _BASTARD!"_ She launched herself at him, sprinting across the floor towards him, tears running down her face. "I'll _KILL YOU _for this!"

"Oh. The whore's girlfriend?" He smiled coldly. "How cute."

Another bullet, a dull thud.

Ace sat against the wall of the cellar, head in his hands. Tears escaped from his eyes as well. He heard Monocle's retreating footsteps. Heard him reach the door and leave. He didn't move though, remained motionless in that basement. He felt cold. Frozen. He was pathetic. Useless. Not strong enough to even save two beautiful girls, two beautiful souls. They died because _he_ brought Teach here. It was his fault, and he should _never_ pretend otherwise. How could he even be _thinking_ about saving Thatch? He couldn't save anyone. Ever. Because he was weak. And he hated it, hated himself.

Ace didn't know how long he sat down there. Eventually, he stood, limbs creaking from long-stillness. He walked up the stairs, numb. Spent. What he saw in that room broke his heart afresh.

Patricia, in her last moment, had turned her body so she'd lie next to Eve when she fell.

Ace approached slowly. Patricia, like Eve, had a circular hole in the middle of her forehead. She'd died painlessly, instantly. Ace knelt by her side, reaching out and gently closing her cloudy eyes. He wiped the tears from her face as well. He turned to Eve next, repeating the process. He swallowed thickly.

Ace wondered if, in that last moment, Eve had begged for life or death.

He already knew what the answer was for Patricia.

* * *

(A/N: …yeah. Sorry…? Ummm…I don't really know what to say. My writing sure has gotten depressing lately, huh? *awkwardly scratches back of head*

Well…I don't really have anything else to say, so…yeah. I'm going to go hide in a corner now. Please review.

-Stuff'nStuff)


	8. Chapter 7 ALTERNATE

(Alternate version of chapter 7 since some people didn't seem to really like it. Some of the text is the same, but a lot of it is different, so I recommend reading the whole thing. Shishiochan, Gundum-grrl, let me know if this version is more suited to your tastes. C: To those of you who liked the last one: pick which version you like better. They'll both lead into the next chapter, so if you liked the other one you don't necessarily _have_ to read this one.

**Warning: this chapter contains violence, language, and sexual reference.**)

_~And everything is screaming~_

30 seconds. That wasn't a lot of time. But it was better than two seconds, which was what Ace calculated he had if they rushed him. He could still put up a good fight, but versus all of them? And unable to use his devil fruit? He didn't like those odds. He hoped Teach didn't know exactly how cornered he had Ace right now. Ace had next to no options. In 30 seconds, he and Thatch could put enough trees between them and Teach that bullets would be ineffective, and he knew Thatch could run damn fast. They could get to the ship, if they really bolted. But…there was still the issue of the ship not being ready to sail as soon as they got there. They'd have to pull up or cut off the anchor, ready the sails, not to mention turning the damn thing around. The ship wasn't equipped with a cannon, either, so once they got there they wouldn't have any kind of technological advantage. But still…

30 seconds with Thatch was better than two by himself.

Ace swallowed and took a deep breath. He still didn't really like this, but it was the lesser of two evils.

"Alright. Untie Thatch so we can get going and I'll give you the fruit." Teach raised an eyebrow.

"Who said anything about letting Thatch go with you?" Ace blinked. _Shit he does know how much of an advantage he has._ "I said I'd give _you_ a thirty second head start." Ace grit his teeth. _30 seconds is better than two. You can get away, lose them in the woods, loop back and see if you can get Thatch. Or something. _Ace snorted. _Yeah. "Or something." That's helpful._ _But it's better than getting caught now._

He tossed the fruit to Teach.

Before it even touched his hands, Ace had turned the other way and vanished into the trees.

* * *

As the adrenaline of combat faded, Ace's fatigue returned two-fold. He was in trouble. Big. Trouble. He needed to rest before he made some kind of stupid mistake or otherwise screwed himself over. _Like you did with Thatch? That trap would have been _perfect_ if I hadn't miscalculated how far the mixture would spread._ Ace was mentally smacking himself for that blunder. Because of that, he'd lost a helluva lot more than just time. Teach now believed he had the devil fruit. Ace couldn't be entirely sure that he _didn't._ He'd taken the one Thatch had indicated, but had he been indicating the fake one or the real? And, most of all, he'd had to _leave Thatch there._ That one definitely weighed the most on his conscience. Ace wanted more than _anything_ to loop back and try saving him, but he knew he wouldn't be doing either of them favors by getting himself caught.

When they'd passed under the tree he'd been hiding in, Ace had been able to pick up some of their plans, after all. They were going to turn Ace and Thatch into the marines. And they only _needed_ one of them. Thatch's life, for now, was safeguarded by their future schemes. If Ace was caught, though, they wouldn't need both of them. There'd be no guarantee of either of their safeties. This was the closest he could get to protecting Thatch short of saving him, which was definitely very, _very_ high on his to-do list.

All in all, Ace had really, _really _fucked up. He didn't want to fuck up any more, so he needed to get some rest or resolve the situation. If he wanted to resolve the situation in any way that didn't most likely involve his imminent capture, he needed sleep. But where could he go, that Teach and his crew wouldn't find him?

With the 30-second head start, Ace had been able to lose them in the trees, but he had nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide. And he _needed_ somewhere to hide, for a few hours at least, so he could get some rest. Ace stumbled again and swore. This was bad. He had enough trouble not falling asleep on _good_ days. It'd be a miracle if he didn't faceplant and get his idiot, narcoleptic self captured within the hour.

He needed help.

And, with Thatch incapacitated, there was only one person Ace could turn to.

* * *

Ace knocked on the door again, casting a glance over his shoulder. Sneaking into the city hadn't been easy with the marines still searching for them, but thus far Ace had remained undetected. At least by the marines. He could only hope the same held true of Teach and his crew. If they knew he was here…

The door opened to the face of a familiar, blonde woman. Patricia. She blinked at him in surprise, then looked behind him hurriedly.

"Shit. What the hell are you doing here?" she hissed. She opened the door more, dragging him inside. "Did the marines see you coming here?" She closed the door behind him, bolting it. Ace stumbled at her pull, and she looked a little more apologetic. "You're not hurt, are you?" Ace straightened, waving her off.

"No. I'm not hurt. But I need help."

"Jesus. Do you _know_ what time it is?" Ace blinked, looking at her again. She was in a nightgown, her hair up in a messy bun, no makeup or perfume to be found. She'd been asleep. "I swear to God, if you woke up Eve… She had enough on her plate without you and your damned mission. It took me an hour to convince her to come to bed." Ace blinked, eyebrows rising in surprise. Patricia seemed to realize what she said and instantly went prickly, defensive. "What? You got a problem?" Ace raised his hands.

"Hey, I'm no hypocrite." It was Patricia's turn to look surprised. She glanced him up and down, seemingly reassessing him.

"…Oh." Ace pulled a tired smile. He was practically asleep where he stood.

"Listen…the mission was a success, but something went wrong and I need a place to stay, just to rest for a few hours. Do you have an open room, even just a _floor_ I could sleep on?" Patricia regarded him warily.

"…Are you hiding from someone?" Ace sighed. She was perceptive.

"Yes."

"What will they do if they discover us hiding you?"

"I'd tell them I broke in and you didn't know I was here."

"Would they believe you?" Ace was silent and Patricia's face was grim. She sighed.

"…Listen, I'm really sor-"

"You can stay in the cellar." Both Patricia's and Ace's heads snapped to the source of the voice. Eve. She, too, was dressed for sleep, wrapped in a robe. Her hair was sleep-tousled and her eyes tired, but she smiled softly.

"I don't think it's a good idea-" Patricia started, Eve looked at her almost sharply.

"Well I do." Her eyes softened, and her gaze turned to Ace. "Can't you see? He has someone he's trying to get home to." Patricia still looked on the fence, and Eve turned her gaze to her. "I know you're worried. But Ace isn't the type to ask for help unless he really needed it. He's too damn proud for that. So he really needs us, and he deserves to see his significant other again, don't you agree?" Patricia hesitated, conflict in her eyes. "What if it was me? What if I was on some distant island asking for help, fighting to get home to you? What if someone refused to give that help?" Patricia's shoulder's slumped, the fight leaving her eyes.

"…I'd travel halfway 'round the world just to kick their ass." Ace, seeing the two, felt heavy with homesickness. He missed Marco fiercely. But all the same, he smiled at them.

"You two are really something special."

The cellar, as it turned out, wasn't your ordinary basement.

The door was hidden under Eve's desk in her office, a hidden switch needing to be flipped to open the door. The wood of it blended perfectly with that of the surrounding boards, and the seam between floor and door was undetectable. Ace doubted even _he_ could have found it.

Eve, being bound to one floor by her wheelchair, couldn't actually go down with them, so Patricia led the way. Within, the chamber was surprisingly cozy. Wood floor, simple table, and a bed in one corner. A small window, no doubt disguised, led outside, venting in fresh air. Patricia placed the candleholder on the table and turned to reascend. She looked back over her shoulder at him.

"I'll come wake you in a few hours, okay? I expect you'll want to get out of here before noon?" Ace nodded. She moved again to leave, and he grabbed her wrist.

"Listen…I know you're not altogether happy I'm here, and I don't blame you for that. I just wanted to really, honestly tell you how grateful I am that you let me stay anyway. Thank you." Ace said the words calmly, face serious. Patricia met his eyes vacantly for a moment, then a slow smile came to her face.

"You're welcome." She said warmly. She turned away, voice dropping back to snippy sarcasm. "Now get some sleep, asshole."

* * *

Patricia, as promised, woke him several hours later. Ace couldn't remember the last time he slept so deeply, and woke feeling unbelievably better. He sat up and stretched, feeling how the fatigue had dissipated from his limbs. Patricia watched him stoically from her place beside the table, where she absently set out a simple breakfast. Fruit. Bread. Tea. It was a plain meal, but to Ace it currently looked like a feast. He sat down at the table, reaching for an apple.

Patricia let him eat in efficient silence, but once he sat back to enjoy the tea at a more relaxed pace, she spoke.

"So what's it like, being a uke?" Ace spewed his tea across the table, embarrassed blush turning his face bright red to the very tips of his ears.

"What the _fuck_ kind of question is that?!" he choked. Patricia laughed at him, at his tomato red face, at his expression.

"So I take it you're a virgin, the-"

Tap, tap.

Eve's foot against the door. Shutting it. Locking them in. It could only be opened from the outside.

Ace and Patricia's heads snapped up to the ceiling, the origin of the tapping. Patricia swore under her breath and Ace looked at her in confusion, picking up on her quietude and not speaking. She looked at him, but did not audibly speak.

"There's someone here." She mouthed. Ace's eyes widened and he looked back up at the ceiling. Patricia tapped his arm, attracting his attention again. "We'll probably be able to hear what they say, if we stay quiet." Ace nodded and listened, tuning his ears for any sound. It was muffled at first, but eventually he was able to make out what was being said.

"…was here." Ace's eyes widened. Teach.

"Portgas D. Ace? The pirate? What would he be doing here? I was under the impression he was aboard the Moby Dick. Isn't that generally where the Commanders stay?" Eve's voice. She was doing perfect, her voice the perfect amount of confusion and disbelief. Footsteps marched across the floor, towards Eve. A resounding slap followed, loud enough that the blow itself must have had a great deal of force. Patricia surged towards the stairs, towards the door, meaning to batter it down if she had to, but Ace grabbed her, wrapping one arm around her waist and the other clamping over her mouth. She writhed in her grip, but he held her tightly against him.

"_Listen_ to me!" He whispered in her ear. "If you attract attention now and they find me down here? Eve's going to be in a much, _much_ tighter spot. Trust her. She can deal with this." Patricia subsided slowly, the logic of Ace's words sinking in. He didn't let go, though. He knew exactly how much self-restraint he'd have in Patricia's position, and if he didn't trust himself not to go up those stairs under the same circumstances, no way was he trusting someone else not to.

"Don't lie to me, _bitch_. I already know about how he got those floorplans from you." Teach snarled.

"I'm telling you, _he's not fucking here._ Did I help him for that mission? Sure. But that was a secret, for _obvious_ political reasons, so sorry I just didn't spill the whole story to some stranger. But _no._ Portgas D. Ace, Commander of the Second Division of the Whitebeard Pirates, wielder of the Mera Mera no Mi, is _not in any of the rooms of this building._ At least, not to my knowledge." A short silence followed.

"…Then you've lost all value to me." Teach's voice was cold. Ace's eyes widened. _Shit!_ He released Patricia, launching himself at the stairs, towards the door-

**Fpew.**

The sound of a gunshot, muffled by a silencer.

Ace slammed into the trapdoor with enough force to break the lock and make his shoulder _scream_ in protest. The door slammed open and Ace was out in an instant.

Eve was already dead.

But Ace was still moving, knowing to hesitate would be a mistake. His eyes locked onto Teach who was grinning victoriously, smoking gun still in hand.

"Hiya Ace." He'd known. He'd known Ace had been here all along. Ace snarled at him, pulling his fist back, preparing to attack-

A tearful, blonde blur raced past him.

"You _BASTARD!"_ Ace's eyes widened and he instantly changed his course of action, reaching out, trying to stop her-

**Fpew, fpew.**

Teach wasn't that accurate of a shot, especially not with a moving target. One bullet caught Patricia in the shoulder, the other in the stomach. She collapsed with a cry of equal pain, fury, and despair, blood already staining her dress. All the same, she struggled to rise again, clutching at the injury to her stomach. She stared up at Teach, tears streaming down her face. "I'll _kill you for this!"_ Teach snorted, disbelief and mockery clear in his face and voice.

"I'd like to see you try."

"How about me? Would you like to see me try?" Ace snarled, furious, as he vaulted off the desk at Teach, fist already alight. Teach's eyes snapped up to him and he barely managed to dodge, singeing his arm as he fought to evade. Ace didn't stop there, though, using his other hand to draw his knife, the keen blade slicing a thin gash in Teach's chest. Teach gasped in pain and Ace spun to face him once more. Teach would _die for this._ For Thatch's bruises and cuts, for that tiny red hole in Eve's head, for Patricia's pained gasps coming from the floor behind him. Ace straightened slowly, murderous intent flooding off him in waves, glare hard enough to melt steel. Teach pressed a hand to his chest before drawing it back to study the blood on his fingers. His gaze shifted back to Ace, and his look changed to a glare as well. He held up the bloody hand like evidence.

"The devil fruit you gave me doesn't work. You're going to tell me why," he said coldly. Ace shook his head.

"No, in fact. I'm not. And I'm sick of you telling me what to do. So here's an order for you, Teach." Ace's eyes were as frigid as glaciers. "Die."

He launched himself once more at Teach, a combination of flame and blade work alternately brightening the room. Teach was hard pressed to retaliate, and soon sported a number of burns and cuts. He managed to dodge the majority of the blows, however, and none of the injuries were as deep or irreparable as Ace wanted them to be. Ace was pushing him back steadily, and in another few bouts he knew he'd finally be able to spill that fucker's blood. They separated for a brief respite, both panting from exertion, still glaring steadily at each other. Ace could tell Teach knew he was going to lose this fight, could tell Teach was looking for some kind of out. _But there is _nothing _that will stop me from killing this man, right here. Right now._

"If you want that blonde bitch to live, you need to get her to a doctor, now." Teach said breathlessly. Ace's eyes widened and he hesitated. _…Well, so much for that. _Ace was frozen in indecision. He couldn't let Patricia die. But he couldn't let Teach get away, either. This was his chance to end that _traitor's_ life. But could he really do it at the cost of another? Ace took a deep breath, still glaring at Teach.

He slowly resheathed his knife, allowing the flame on his left arm to flicker out. But his glare didn't lessen, and it didn't break until Teach backed out of the room. It was only once he'd been gone for a few seconds that Ace turned away, hurrying across the room and kneeling by Patricia's side.

"You're going to be fine," Ace said calmly. His panicking wouldn't do her any good, even if internally he was nervous about the amount of blood around her on the floor. He tore off strips from his shirt, planning to use them as makeshift bandages. "I'm going to take you to a doctor and everything's going to be alri-"

"Don't, Ace." Her voice was soft as she gently pushed his hands away. "Don't." Ace grit his teeth.

"Patricia, if I don't stop the bleeding you'll-"

"But that'll take time, right?" She coughed quietly. "That's what you don't have right now, Ace." Her eyes turned serious. "You need to catch him." She smiled weakly.

Ace reached down, trying to apply the bandages anyway. "Patricia-"

"_Don't._" He looked at her face again and found her crying. She swallowed. "Don't. I…I don't want you to." Tears leaked down the sides of her face and into her hair. "Don't you get it? There's nothing left for me anymore. Nothing good in my life. No family, no friends. All I had was Eve. She's…everything to me." She smiled at him. "I can't live without her. So let me join her. Please." Ace's hands shook, stained with her blood. He swallowed thickly. She reached up and weakly clasped one of his trembling hands between both of hers. She smiled at him quietly. "…It's alright, Ace. This isn't your fault. I want this." He still hesitated, and she saw it. Her eyes were dimming, but she continued smiling at him. "Go." Ace stood slowly.

"…Goodbye, Patricia." She grinned weakly at him.

"Kick his ass."

* * *

(A/N: Hope you liked this version better. If not…I'm sorry. I tried to answer to all of the critiques you guys left, and I hope this is somewhat more what you're looking for. If it's not…I apologize, but I'm not writing a _third_ version. Review, let me know if you found this better.

-Stuff'nStuff)


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